Fables

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W. Strahan, 1772 - Fables - 240 pages
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Page 82 - He rais'd his head with whining moan, And thus was heard the feeble tone : ' Ah ! sons ! from evil ways depart ; My crimes lie heavy on my heart. See, see the murder'd geese appear ! Why are those bleeding turkeys there ? Why all around this cackling train, Who haunt my ears for chicken slain?
Page 130 - Friendship, like love, is but a name, Unless to one you stint the flame. The child, whom many fathers share, Hath seldom known a father's care. Tis thus in friendships; who depend On many, rarely find a friend.
Page 100 - I'll read my fable. Betwixt her swagging panniers load A farmer's wife to market rode, And, jogging on, with thoughtful care Summ'd up the profits of her ware ; When, starting from her silver dream, Thus far and wide was heard her scream : That raven on yon left-hand oak (Curse on his ill-betiding croak !) Bodes me no good.
Page 112 - This magic looking-glass," she cries, (" There, hand it round) will charm your eyes " : Each eager eye the sight desired, And ev'ry man himself admired.
Page 128 - Or crawls beside the coral grove, And hears the ocean roll above ; "Nature is too profuse...
Page 100 - JOVE smiles, and grants his full request. The first, a miser at the heart, Studious of ev'ry griping art, Heaps hoards on hoards with anxious pain, And all his life devotes to gain ; He feels no joy, his cares...
Page 38 - FABLE XI. THE PEACOCK, THE TURKEY, AND THE GOOSE. TN beauty faults conspicuous grow; The smallest speck is seen on snow. As near a barn, by hunger led, A Peacock with the poultry fed; All view'd him with an envious eye, And mock'd his gaudy pageantry. He, conscious of superior merit, Contemns their base reviling spirit; His state and dignity assumes, And to the sun displays his plumes; Which, like the heav'n's o'erarching skies, Are spangled with a thousand eyes.
Page 116 - At once displays his babbling throat ; The pack, regardless of the note, Pursue the scent ; with louder strain He .still persists to vex the train.
Page 9 - My dog (the trustiest of his kind) With gratitude inflames my mind : I mark his true, his faithful way, And in my service copy Tray.
Page 112 - tis a counter now again. A guinea with her touch you see Take every shape but Charity ; And not one thing you saw, or drew, But chang'd from what was first in view. The Juggler now, in grief of heart, With this...

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