FABLE XIX.

THE FABLE OF THE CONDEMNED ASS.

A DREADFUL plague, the like was findle feen,
Caft mony a beast wame upwards on the green:
By thousands down to Acheron they fank,
To dander ages on the dowie bank,

Because they lay unburied on the fward,
The fick furvivors cou'dna give them eard.
The wowf and tod with fighing spent the day,
Their fickly stamacks fcunner'd at the prey;
Fowls droop the wing, the bull neglects his love;
Scarce crawl the fheep, and weakly horses move:
The bauldest brutes that haunt Numidian glens,
Ly panting out their lives in dreary dens.

Thick lay the dead, and thick the pain'd and weak,
The prospect gart the awfu' Lion quake.

He ca's a council.-" Ah! my friends," faid he, ""Tis for fome horrid faut fae mony die; "Sae heaven permits.-Then let us a' confefs, "With open breast, our crimes baith mair and less,

"That

"That the revengefu' gods may be appeas'd, "When the maift guilty wight is facrific'd. "Fa't on the feyest: I shall first begin, "And awn whate'er my conscience ca's a fin. "The sheep and deer I 've worried, now, alace! "Crying for vengeance, glowr me i' the face;

Forby their herd, poor man! to croun my 66 treat,

"Limb after limb, with bloody jaws I ate :

"Ah, glutton me! what murders have I done!"Now fay about, confefs ilk ane as foon

"And frank as I."-" Sire," fays the pawky

"Tod,

"Your tenderness befpeaks you haf a god! "Worthy to be the monarch of the

grove, "Worthy your friends' and a' your fubjects' love. "Your fcruples are too nice: what's harts or "fheep?

"An idiot crowd, which for your board ye keep; "And where 's the fin for ane to take his ain? "Faith 'tis their honour when by you they 're "flain.

"Neift, what's their herd?-a man, our deadly "fae!

"Wha o'er us beasts pretends a fancy'd sway; "And ne'er makes banes o't, when 'tis in his

66 power,

"With guns and bows our nation to devour."

He faid; and round the courtiers all and each
Applauded Lawrie for his winfome speech.

The tyger, bair, and ev'ry powerfu' fur, Down to the wilcat and the fnarling cur,

Confeft their crimes :-but wha durft ca' them crimes,

Except themfells?

The Afs, dull thing! neift in his turn confest, That being with hunger very fair opprest,

In o'er a dike he shot his head ae day,

And rugg'd three mouthfu's aff a ruck of hay :
"But fpeering leave," faid he, "fome wicked
"de'il

"Did tempt me frae the parish priest to steal."
He faid; and all at ains the powerfu' croud,
With open throats, cry'd haftily and loud,
"This gypfie Ass deserves ten deaths to die,
"Whase horrid guilt brings on our misery!"
A gaping wowf, in office, straight demands

To have him burnt, or tear him where he

ftands:

Hanging, he said, was an o'er eafy death;

He should in tortures yield his latest breath.

What, break a bishop's yard! ah crying guilt!
Which nought can expiate till his blood be

fpilt.

The

The Lion figns his fentence, "hang and draw :" Sae poor lang lugs man pay the kane for a'.

Hence we may ken, how power has eith the knack

To whiten red, and gar the blew feem black:
They'll start at winleftraes, yet never crook,
When Interest bids, to lowp out o'er a ftowk.

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FABLE XX.

THE GODS OF EGYPT.

LANGSYNE in Egypt beafts were gods;
Sae mony, that the men turn'd beasts;
Vermin and brutes but house or hald,
Had offerings, temples, and their priests.

Ae day a Rattan, white as milk,
At a cat's fhrine was facrific'd,

And

pompous on the altar bled:

The victim much god Badrans pleas'd.

The neift day was god Rattan's tour;
And that he might propitious fmile,
A Cat is to his temple brought,

Priefts finging round him a' the while

Odes, anthems, hymns, in verfe and profe,
With inftruments of folemn found,

Praying the lang-tail'd deity

To blefs their faulds and furrow'd ground.

"O! plague