LESSON XXXIV.
The Gardener and the Hog.—Gay.
1. A gardener, of peculiar taste,
On a young hog his favor placed,
Who fed not with the common herd,—
His tray was to the hall preferred;
He wallowed underneath the board,
Or in his master's chamber snored,
Who fondly stroked him every day,
And taught him all the puppy's play.
2. Where'er he went, the grunting friend
Ne'er failed his pleasure to attend.
As on a time the loving pair
Walked forth to tend the garden's care,
The master thus addressed the swine:
3. "My house, my garden, all is thine:
On turnips feast whene'er you please,
And riot in my beans and peas;
If the potato's taste delights,
Or the red carrot's sweet invites,
Indulge thy morn and evening hours,
But let due care regard my flowers;
My tulips are my garden's pride—
What vast expense these beds supplied!"
4. The hog, by chance, one morning roamed
Where with new ale the vessels foamed;
He munches now the steaming grains,
Now with full swill the liquor drains;
Intoxicating fumes arise,
He reels, he rolls his winking eyes;
Then, staggering, through the garden scours,
And treads down painted ranks of flowers;
With delving snout he turns the soil,
And cools his palate with the spoil.
5. The master came,—the ruin spied.
"Villain, suspend thy rage!" he cried:
"Hast then, thou most ungrateful sot,
My charge, my only charge, forgot?
What, all my flowers?" No more he said;
But gazed, and sighed, and hung his head.
6. The hog, with stuttering speech, returns:—
"Explain, sir, why your anger burns;
See there, untouched, your tulips strown,
For I devoured the roots alone!"
7. At this the gardener's passion grows;
From oaths and threats he fell to blows;
The stubborn brute the blows sustains,
Assaults his leg, and tears the veins.
Ah! foolish swain, too late you find
That sties were for such friends designed!
8. Homeward he limps with painful pace,
Reflecting thus on past disgrace:
Who cherishes a brutal mate,
Shall mourn the folly soon or late.
LESSON XXXV.
The Hare and many Friends.—Gay.
1. A hare, who, in a civil way,
Complied with everything, like Gay,
Was known by all the bestial train
Who haunt the wood, or graze the plain.
Her care was never to offend,
And every creature was her friend.
2. As forth she went, at early dawn,
To taste the dew-besprinkled lawn,
Behind she hears the hunter's cries,
And from the deep-mouthed thunder flies.
3. She starts, she stops, she pants for breath;
She hears the near advance of death;
She doubles to mislead the hound,
And measures back her mazy round;
Till, fainting in the public way,
Half dead with fear, she gasping lay.
4. What transport in her bosom grew,
When first the horse appeared in view!
"Let me," says she, "your back ascend,
And owe my safety to a friend.
You know my feet betray my flight,—
To friendship every burden's light."
5. The horse replied:—"Poor honest puss,
It grieves my heart to see thee thus.
Be comforted,—relief is near;
For all your friends are in the rear."
6. She next the stately bull implored;
And thus replied the mighty lord:—
"Since every beast alive can tell
That I sincerely wish you well,
I may, without offense, pretend
To take the freedom of a friend.
Love calls me hence; a favorite cow
Expects me near yon barley-mow;
And when a lady's in the case,
You know all other things give place.
To leave you thus might seem unkind;
But see,—the goat is just behind."
7. The goat remarked her pulse was high,
Her languid head, her heavy eye,—
"My back," says he, "may do you harm;
The sheep's at hand, and wool is warm."
8. The sheep was feeble, and complained
His sides a load of wool sustained:
Said he was slow, confessed his fears;
For hounds eat sheep, as well as hares.
9. She now the trotting calf addressed,
To save from death a friend distressed.
"Shall I," says he, "of tender age,
In this important care engage?
Older and abler passed you by;
How strong are those! how weak am I!
10. "Should I presume to bear you hence,
Those friends of mine may take offense.
Excuse me, then,—you know my heart;
But dearest friends, alas! must part.
How shall we all lament! Adieu!
For see,—the hounds are just in view."
11. 'Tis thus in friendships; who depend
On many, rarely find a friend.
