FABLE X.

THE SPIDER AND THE BEE.

The nymph who walks the public streets,
And sets her cap at all she meets,
May catch the fool who turns to stare;
But men of sense avoid the snare.
As on the margin of the flood,
With silken line, my LYDIA stood,
I smil’d to see the pains you took,
To cover o’er the fraudful hook.
Along the forest as we stray’d,
You saw the boy his lime-twigs spread;
Guess’d you the reason of his fear,
Lest, heedless, we approach’d too near?
For as behind the bush we lay,
The linnet flutter’d on the spray.

Needs there such caution to delude
The scaly fry, and feather’d brood?
And think you, with inferior art,
To captivate the human heart?
The maid who modestly conceals
Her beauties, while she hides, reveals;
Give but a glimpse, and FANCY draws
Whate’er the GRECIAN VENUS was.
From EVE’S first fig-leaf to brocade,
All dress was meant for FANCY’S aid,
Which evermore delighted dwells
On what the bashful nymph conceals.
When CELIA struts in man’s attire,
She shews too much to raise desire;
But from the hoop’s bewitching round,
Her very shoe has power to wound.
The roving eye, the bosom bare,
The forward laugh, the wanton air,
May catch the fop, for gudgeons strike
At the bare hook, and bait, alike;
While SALMON play regardless by,
Till ART, like NATURE, forms the fly.
Beneath a PEASANT’S homely thatch,
A SPIDER long had held her watch;
From morn to night, with restless care,
She spun her web, and wove her snare.
Within the limits of her reign
Lay many a hidden captive, slain;
Or, flutt’ring, struggled in the toils
To burst the chains, and shun her wiles.
A straying BEE, that perch’d hard by,
Beheld her with disdainful eye;
And thus began:—Mean thing! give o’er,
And lay thy slender threads no more;
A thoughtless FLY or two, at most,
Is all the conquest thou canst boast;
For BEES of sense thy arts evade,
We see so plain the nets are laid.
The gaudy TULIP, that displays
Her spreading foliage to the gaze,
That points her charms at all she sees,
And yields to ev’ry wanton BREEZE,
Attracts not me. Where blushing grows,
Guarded with thorns, the modest ROSE,
Enamour’d round and round I fly,
Or on her fragrant bosom lie;
Reluctant, she my ardour meets,
And, bashful, renders up her sweets.
To wiser heads attention lend,
And learn this lesson from a friend:
She, who with modesty retires,
Adds fuel to her lover’s fires;
While such incautious jilts as you,
By folly your own schemes undo.

FABLE XI.

THE YOUNG LION AND THE APE.

’Tis true, I blame your lover’s choice,
Tho’ flatter’d by the public voice,
And peevish grow, and sick, to hear
His exclamations, O how fair!
I listen not to wild delights,
And transports of expected nights;
What is to me your hoard of charms,
The whiteness of your neck and arms?
Needs there no acquisition more,
To keep contention from the door?
Yes! pass a fortnight, and you’ll find
All beauty cloys but of the mind.
Sense and good humour ever prove
The surest cords to fasten love.
Yet, PHILLIS, simplest of your sex,
You never think, but to perplex;
Coquetting it with ev’ry APE,
That struts abroad in human shape;
Not that the coxcomb is your taste,
But that it stings your lover’s breast.
To-morrow you resign the sway,
Prepar’d to honour and obey;
The tyrant-mistress chang’d for life
To the submission of a wife.
Your follies, if you can, suspend,
And learn instructions from a friend.
Reluctant hear the first address,
Think often, ere you answer, yes;
But once resolv’d, throw off disguise,
And wear your wishes in your eyes.
With caution ev’ry look forbear,
That might create one jealous fear,
A lover’s rip’ning hopes confound,
Or give the gen’rous breast a wound;
Contemn the girlish arts to teaze,
Nor use your pow’r unless to please;
For fools alone with rigour sway,
When, soon or late, they must obey.
The KING OF BRUTES, in life’s decline,
Resolv’d dominion to resign;
The beasts were summon’d to appear,
And bend before the royal heir.
They came; a day was fix’d; the crowd
Before their future monarch bow’d.
A dapper MONKEY, pert and vain,
Step’d forth, and thus address’d the train:
Why cringe, my friends, with slavish awe,
Before this pageant king of straw?
Shall we anticipate the hour,
And, ere we feel it, own his pow’r?
The counsels of experience prize,
I know the maxims of the wise;
Subjection let us cast away,
And live the monarchs of to-day;
’Tis ours the vacant hand to spurn,
And play the tyrant each in turn;
So shall he right from wrong discern,
And mercy, from oppression, learn;
At others woes be taught to melt,
And loath the ills himself has felt.
He spoke; his bosom swell’d with pride,
The youthful LION thus reply’d:
What madness prompts thee to provoke
My wrath, and dare th’ impending stroke?
Thou wretched fool! can wrongs impart
Compassion to the feeling heart?
Or teach the grateful breast to glow,
The hand to give, or eye to flow?
Learn’d in the practice of their schools,
From woman thou hast drawn thy rules;
To them return, in such a cause,
From only such expect applause;
The partial sex I don’t condemn,
For liking those who copy them.

Would’st thou the gen’rous LION bind,
By kindness bribe him to be kind;
Good offices their likeness get,
And payment lessens not the debt:
With multiplying hand he gives
The good from others he receives;
Or for the bad makes fair return,
And pays, with int’rest, scorn for scorn.