Discord has always ruled this universe; Our world of this could many facts rehearse. This goddess over countless subjects reigns; The elements not Jupiter himself restrains; Nor these four potentates alone wage war: In many races there's a ceaseless jar. A house once, full of Dogs and Cats, grew free Of strife, at last, by many a grave decree. The master fixed their hours, and every meal, And let the quarrelsome his horsewhip feel. They live, at last, like cousins, almost brothers, And furnish quite examples to all others. At length peace ended;--some stray tempting bone, Some broth, or little preference to one shown, Made both belligerents half crazy run. To plead the grievous injury that's done, I've heard that learned writers of old law Attribute this to some small legal flaw. Be what it might, they both made angry claims, And set the kitchen and the hall in flames. Some loud for Dog and some for Cat cried out: The Cats went mewing, the Dogs whined about. They deafened every one. Cats' advocate Referred to the decree; and the debate Ceased at that word; but still they searched in vain Where it was hid, and sought and sought again. The Mice had eaten it; then, lo, once more The Mice were sufferers--many, many a score The old Cats swallowed--some, with cruel claws, Expounded to the Mice their code of laws; Laid ambuscades; caught them in many ways, And from their master obtained food and praise. <i>Mais à nos moutons.</i> Not beneath the skies Lives there a creature without enemies. 'Tis Nature's law; and how is purblind man The secret of Gods mysteries to scan? It is God's will; further I do not go: We waste our time in trying but to know. Man is, at sixty years, a wondering fool, Fit to be whipped, and sent again to school. [Illustration: LOVE AND FOLLY.] FABLE CCXXIII. LOVE AND FOLLY. All is mysterious with Love,-- His bow and arrow, torch, and wings. 'Tis not a day's work in a grove. To master these momentous things. Explain them my poor muse can not; My object is but, in my way, To tell of Cupid's wretched lot, And how he lost the light of day. Whether that fate be ill or well For those whom Cupid since has met, Lovers alone can rightly tell: I cannot, though I've felt his net. Folly and Love together played, One day, before he lost his sight; But yet, as people will, they strayed From friendship, and got stung by spite. Disputes are really melancholy! Love wanted all the gods and men As umpires; but impatient Folly Preferred it settled there and then; And gave poor Cupid such a blow, That both his pretty eyes were seared. For blessed sight gave blindness--lo! Their heaven's blue brightness disappeared.