An OWL, puff'd up with self-conceit, Lov'd learning better than his meat; Old manuscripts he treasur'd up, And rummag'd ev'ry grocer's shop; At pastry-cooks was known to ply, And strip, for science, ev'ry pie. For modern poetry and wit, He had read all that BLACKMORE writ. So intimate with CURL was grown, His learned treasures were his own; To all his authors had access, And sometimes would correct the press. In logic he acquir'd such knowledge, You'd swear him fellow of a college. Alike to ev'ry art and science, His daring genius bid defiance, And swallow'd wisdom with that haste That cits do custards at a feast. Within the shelter of a wood, One evening, as he musing stood, Hard by, upon a leafy spray, A NIGHTINGALE began his lay; Sudden he starts, with anger stung, And, screeching, interrupts the song. Pert, busy thing! thy airs give o'er, And let my contemplation soar-- What is the music of thy voice, But jarring dissonance and noise? Be wise--True harmony thou'lt find Not in the throat, but in the mind; By empty chirping not attain'd, But by laborious study gain'd. Go, read the authors POPE explodes, Fathom the depth of CIBBER'S odes; With modern plays improve thy wit, Read all the learning HENLEY writ, And if thou needs must sing, sing then, And emulate the ways of men: So shalt thou grow, like me, refin'd, And bring improvement to thy kind. Thou wretch! the little warbler cry'd, Made up of ignorance and pride; Ask all the birds, and they'll declare A greater blockhead wings not air. Read o'er thyself, thy talents scan, Science was only meant for man. No senseless authors me molest, I mind the duties of my nest; With careful wing protect my young, And cheer their ev'nings with a song; Make short the weary trav'ller's way, And warble in the poet's lay. Thus, following nature, and her laws, From men and birds I claim applause, While, nurs'd in pedantry and sloth, An OWL is scorn'd alike by both. FABLE XIV. THE SPARROW AND THE DOVE. It was, as learn'd traditions say, Upon an APRIL'S blithsome day, When PLEASURE, ever on the wing, Return'd, companion of the SPRING, And cheer'd the birds with am'rous heat, Instructing little hearts to beat; A SPARROW, frolic, gay, and young, Of bold address, and flippant tongue, Just left his lady of a night, Like him, to follow new delight. The youth, of many a conquest vain, Flew off to seek the chirping train; The chirping train he quickly found, And with a saucy ease bow'd round.