What then? The meanest bird of prey Such want of sense could ne'er betray; _100 For sure some difference must be found (Suppose the smelling organ sound) In carcases (say what we can) Or where's the dignity of man?'

With due respect to human race, The ravens undertook the case.

In such similitude of scent, Man ne'er eould think reflections meant.

As epicures extol a treat, And seem their savoury words to eat, _110 They praised dead horse, luxurious food, The venison of the prescient brood.

The s.e.xton's indignation moved, The mean comparison reproved; The undiscerning palate blamed, Which two-legged carrion thus defamed.

Reproachful speech from either side The want of argument supplied: They rail, revile: as often ends The contest of disputing friends.

_120 'Hold,' says the fowl; 'since human pride With confutation ne'er complied, Let's state the case, and then refer The knotty point: for taste may err.'

As thus he spoke, from out the mould An earth-worm, huge of size, unrolled His monstrous length. They straight agree To choose him as their referee.

So to the experience of his jaws, Each states the merits of his cause.

_130 He paused, and with a solemn tone, Thus made his sage opinion known: 'On carcases of every kind This maw hath elegantly dined; Provoked by luxury or need, On beast, on fowl, on man, I feed; Such small distinctions in the savour, By turns I choose the fancied flavour, Yet I must own (that human beast) A glutton is the rankest feast.

_140 Man, cease this boast; for human pride Hath various tracts to range beside.

The prince who kept the world in awe, The judge whose dictate fixed the law, The rich, the poor, the great, the small, Are levelled. Death confounds them all.

Then think not that we reptiles share Such cates, such elegance of fair: The only true and real good Of man was never vermin's food.

_150 'Tis seated in the immortal mind; Virtue distinguishes mankind, And that (as yet ne'er harboured here) Mounts with his soul we know not where.

So, good man s.e.xton, since the case Appears with such a dubious face, To neither I the cause determine, For different tastes please different vermin.'

END OF GAY'S FABLES.

SONGS.

SWEET WILLIAM'S FAREWELL TO BLACK-EYED SUSAN.

1

All in the Downs the fleet was moor'd, The streamers waving in the wind, When black-eye'd Susan came aboard.

Oh! where shall I my true-love find?

Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true, If my sweet William sails among the crew.

2

William, who high upon the yard Rock'd with the billow to and fro, Soon as her well-known voice he heard, He sigh'd, and cast his eyes below; The cord slides swiftly through his glowing hands, And (quick as lightning) on the deck he stands.

3

So the sweet lark, high poised in air, Shuts close his pinions to his breast, (If chance his mate's shrill call he hear,) And drops at once into her nest.

The n.o.blest captain in the British fleet Might envy William's lip those kisses sweet.

4

O Susan, Susan, lovely dear, My vows shall ever true remain; Let me kiss off that falling tear; We only part to meet again.

Change, as ye list, ye winds; my heart shall be The faithful compa.s.s that still points to thee.

5

Believe not what the landmen say, Who tempt with doubts thy constant mind.

They'll tell thee, sailors, when away, In every port a mistress find: Yes, yes, believe them when they tell thee so, For thou art present wheresoe'er I go.

6

If to fair India's coast we sail, Thy eyes are seen in diamonds bright, Thy breath is Afric's spicy gale, Thy skin is ivory so white.

Thus every beauteous object that I view, Wakes in my soul some charm of lovely Sue.

7

Though battle call me from thy arms, Let not my pretty Susan mourn; Though cannons roar, yet, safe from harms, William shall to his dear return.

Love turns aside the b.a.l.l.s that round me fly, Lest precious tears should drop from Susan's eye.

8

The boatswain gave the dreadful word, The sails their swelling bosom spread; No longer must she stay aboard: They kiss'd, she sigh'd, he hung his head.

Her lessening boat unwilling rows to land: Adieu! she cries; and waved her lily hand.

A BALLAD,

FROM THE WHAT-D'YE-CALL-IT.

1

'Twas when the seas were roaring With hollow blasts of wind; A damsel lay deploring, All on a rock reclined.

Wide o'er the foaming billows She casts a wistful look; Her head was crown'd with willows, That trembled o'er the brook.

2

Twelve months are gone and over, And nine long tedious days.

Why didst thou, venturous lover, Why didst thou trust the seas?

Cease, cease, thou cruel ocean, And let my lover rest: Ah! what's thy troubled motion To that within my breast?

3

The merchant, robb'd of pleasure, Sees tempests in despair: But what's the loss of treasure, To losing of my dear?

Should you some coast be laid on, Where gold and diamonds grow, You'd find a richer maiden, But none that loves you so.

4

How can they say that nature Has nothing made in vain; Why then beneath the water Should hideous rocks remain?

No eyes the rocks discover, That lurk beneath the deep, To wreck the wandering lover, And leave the maid to weep.

5

All melancholy lying, Thus wail'd she for her dear; Repaid each blast with sighing, Each billow with a tear; When o'er the white wave stooping, His floating corpse she spied; Then, like a lily drooping, She bow'd her head, and died.

END OF GAY'S SONGS.