"Ne'er fear; I quit that filthy bog,
Where I so long have croaked incog:
People of talents, sure, should thrive,
And not be buried thus alive.
But, pray (for I'm extremely dry),
Know you of any water nigh?"
"None," said the Rat, "you'll reach to-day,
As you so slowly make your way.
Believe a friend, and take my word,
This jaunt of yours is quite absurd.
Go to your froggery again;
In your own element remain."
No: on the journey she was bent,
Her thirst increasing as she went;
For want of drink she scarce can hop,
And yet despairing of a drop:
Too late she moans her folly past;
She faints, she sinks, she breathes her last.
MORAL.
Vulgar minds will pay full dear,
When once they move beyond their sphere.
FABLE X.
THE FIGHTING COCK AND EAGLE.
Two Cocks were fighting for the sovereignty of the dunghill, and one of them having got the better of the other, he that was vanquished crept into a hole, and hid himself for some time; but the victor flew up to an eminent place, clapt his wings, and crowed out victory. An Eagle, who was watching for his prey near the place, saw him, and, making a swoop, trussed him up in his talons, and carried him off. The Cock that had been beaten, perceiving this, soon quitted his hole, and, shaking off all remembrance of his late disgrace, gallanted the hens with all the intrepidity imaginable.
MORAL.