THE CUR, THE HORSE, AND THE SHEPHERD’S DOG.

  The lad of all-sufficient merit,
  With modesty ne’er damps his spirit;
  Presuming on his own deserts,
  On all alike his tongue exerts;
  His noisy jokes at random throws,
  And pertly spatters friends and foes;
  In wit and war the bully race
  Contribute to their own disgrace. 
  Too late the forward youth shall find
  That jokes are sometimes paid in kind;
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  Or if they canker in the breast,
  He makes a foe who makes a jest. 
     A village-cur, of snappish race,
  The pertest puppy of the place,
  Imagined that his treble throat
  Was blest with music’s sweetest note: 
  In the mid road he basking lay,
  The yelping nuisance of the way;
  For not a creature passed along,
  But had a sample of his song.
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     Soon as the trotting steed he hears,
  He starts, he cocks his dapper ears;
  Away he scours, assaults his hoof;
  Now near him snarls, now barks aloof;
  With shrill impertinence attends;
  Nor leaves him till the village ends. 
     It chanced, upon his evil day,
  A pad came pacing down the way: 
  The cur, with never-ceasing tongue,
  Upon the passing traveller sprung.
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  The horse, from scorn provoked to ire,
  Flung backward; rolling in the mire,
  The puppy howled, and bleeding lay;
  The pad in peace pursued the way. 
     A shepherd’s dog, who saw the deed,
  Detesting the vexatious breed,
  Bespoke him thus:  ’When coxcombs prate,
  They kindle wrath, contempt, or hate;
  Thy teasing tongue had judgment tied,
  Thou hadst not, like a puppy, died.’
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* * * * *

  FABLE XLVII.

  THE COURT OF DEATH.

  Death, on a solemn night of state,
  In all his pomp of terror sate: 
  The attendants of his gloomy reign,
  Diseases dire, a ghastly train! 
  Crowd the vast court.  With hollow tone,
  A voice thus thundered from the throne: 
     ’This night our minister we name,
  Let every servant speak his claim;
  Merit shall bear this ebon wand;’
  All, at the word, stretch’d forth their hand.
10
     Fever, with burning heat possess’d,
  Advanced, and for the wand address’d: 
  ’I to the weekly bills appeal,
  Let those express my fervent zeal;
  On every slight occasion near,
  With violence I persevere.’ 
     Next Gout appears with limping pace,
  Pleads how he shifts from place to place,
  From head to foot how swift he flies, 19
  And every joint and sinew plies;
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  Still working when he seems suppress’d,
  A most tenacious stubborn guest. 
     A haggard spectre from the crew
  Crawls forth, and thus asserts his due: 
  ’Tis I who taint the sweetest joy,
  And in the shape of love destroy: