Up a long dusty hill, deep sunk in sand, Six sturdy horses drew a Coach. The band Of passengers were pushing hard behind: Women, old men, and monks, all of one mind. Weary and spent they were, and faint with heat; Straight on their heads the sunbeams fiercely beat. In the hot air, just then, came buzzing by, Thinking to rouse the team, a paltry Fly. Stings one, and then another; views the scene: Believing that this ponderous machine Is by his efforts moved, the pole bestrides; And now upon the coachman's nose he rides. Soon as the wheels begin again to grind The upward road, and folks to push behind, He claims the glory; bustles here and there, Fussy and fast, with all the toil and care With which a general hurries up his men, To charge the broken enemy again, And victory secure. The Fly, perplexed With all the work, confessed that she was vexed No one was helping, in that time of need. The monk his foolish breviary would read: He chose a pretty time! a woman sang: Let her and all her foolish songs go hang! Dame Fly went buzzing restless in their ears, And with such mockery their journey cheers. After much toil, the Coach moves on at last: "Now let us breathe; the worst of it is past," The Fly exclaimed; "it is quite smooth, you know; Come, my good nags, now pay me what you owe." So, certain people give themselves great airs, And meddlers mix themselves with one's affairs; Try to be useful, worry more and more, Until, at last, you show the fools the door. FABLE CXXXVIII. THE INGRATITUDE AND INJUSTICE OF MEN TOWARDS FORTUNE. A merchant, trading o'er the seas, Became enriched by every trip. No gulf nor rock destroyed his ease; He lost no goods, from any ship. To others came misfortunes sad, For Fate and Neptune had their will. Fortune for him safe harbours had; His servants served with zeal and skill. He sold tobacco, sugar, spices, Silks, porcelains, or what you please; Made boundless wealth (this phrase suffices), And "lived to clutch the golden keys." 'Twas luxury that gave him millions: In gold men almost talked to him. Dogs, horses, carriages, postillions, To give this man seemed Fortune's whim. A Friend asked how came all this splendour: "I know the 'nick of time,'" he said, "When to be borrower and lender: My care and talent all this made." His profit seemed so very sweet, He risked once more his handsome gains; But, this time, baffled was his fleet: Imprudent, he paid all the pains. One rotten ship sank 'neath a storm, And one to watchful pirates fell; A third, indeed, made port in form, But nothing wanted had to sell.