The Moral.
Some Nations, fond of slothful Ease,
Trust to deluding Enemies;
And striving to avoid Expence,
Will leave themselves without defence;
But cunning Tyrants call 'em Friends,
No longer than it serves their Ends.
Against a mighty King that is,
Regardless of his Promises,
Proclaim an everlasting War,
Observe his Motions, watch with care;
And never hearken to Peace,
Proffer'd by faithless Enemies.
The Wasps and Bees.
A Troop of Wasps claims openly
Some Honey Combs without a Tree.
A Regiment of Bees declares, }
The Honey, and the Combs, were theirs, }
And let him touch the Goods that dares; }
They'd shew that they were Bees, and forsooth.
Then says the Wasps, we'll pluck a Crew for't,
An shall not fly for Bees, we scorn it.
However 'tis left to Justice Hornet,
Who could with all his subtle Sence
Make nothing of the Evidence;
In general they depose, 'tis true,
That Insects of a yellow hue,
With Tails containing poysonous Stings,
Long Body'd, buzzing with their Wings,
And all the Signs to paint a Bee,
Had been observ'd about that Tree.
But this could be no proof for them;
For in the Wasps they are the same,
His Lordship, for his Reputation
Heard a whole Ant's Nest's Information.
But being no wiser than before,
At last said he could do no more;
And made a learned Speech to shew 'em:
That this Court could say nothing to 'em:
It must be try'd in Chancery.
Up starts a pert well meaning Bee,
And Says, an't please your Lordship; 'tis
Six Months we left our Business:
And heard of nothing but Vacations,
And Writs of barbarous Appellations;
And all this while, you know we are,
My Lord, but even as we were.
The Honey every Day grows worse,
And greedy Lawyers drain our Purse.
Under submission we've enough
Of all this formal conjuring stuff.
I believe I can inform you better,
Which way you may decide the matter
What signifies our looking on,
And hearing Council pro and con?
Let's go to work and then you'll see,
Which spoke the Truth, the Wasps or we.
If they can make such Combs and fill
With Honey each sexang'lar Cell;
The Cause is theirs, and we'll pay Cost;
If not, I hope they'll yield it lost.
Which when the Wasps refus'd to do
Judge Hornet rose, and said, Oho!
I smoak you, Sirs, and gave the Bees
The Suit, with Costs and Damages.
The Moral.
Thus would I have all Judges give
Their Judgment. With the Turks I believe,
That common Sence to end a Cause,
Is worth a hundred Common Laws.
They lead us such a way about,
Raise new Disputes, make such a Rout.
Between the Plaintiff and Defendant;
That by the time they make an end on't,
The Suit looks like an Oyster, where
The Fish falls to the Lawyer's Share;
And if the Cause be manag'd well,
Each of the Clients gets a Shell.
The Lyon and the Gnat.
Away base Insect, that took Birth
From th' Exhalations of the Earth.
Thus spoke the Lyon to the Gnat;
Who answer'd, Bully, Think ye that
I'll bear Affronts? No: And declar'd
A War against him to his Beard;
And told the Hector, void of fear,
You'll find Sir King, how much I care
For all your Titles, Tooth and Claw,
Of which great Loobies stand in awe:
I'll quickly curb your haughtiness,
Damn'd Brute; and hardly utter'd this,
But sounds the Charge (he serv'd for all
For Trumpet and for General.)
He nimbly shifts from Place to Place,
And plays before the Lyon's Face;
The other snaps and strikes the Air;
The Gnat avoids him every where;
He watch'd his time, then seiz'd his Neck,
From thence he mov'd, and stung his Back,
There fasten'd, made his Kingship mad,
His Eyes sparkle in his Head;
He foams and roars, and all what's near
Trembles, and hides itself for fear,
Yet, of this general Hurrican,
And dire Alarm th' Occasion
Is, what one would suspect the least,
So small an Atom of a Beast.
With hundred rambling flights he teases
The Brute, and leads him where he pleases;
Gets up his Nostrils, laughs to see
With how much Rage his Enemy
Tore his own Flesh, and all in Blood
Ran raving through the affrighted Wood.
He still pursues, till out of Breath
The Lyon dropp'd, and bled to Death.
The merry buzzing Conqueror
Flies from the dismal Seat of War,
And as he sounded chearfully
The Charge, so sounds the Victory.
But going to proclaim his Story,
Puffed up and blinded with his Glory,
He met a Cobweb in his way,
And fell a silly Spider's Prey.