To give them all the native fire; The features fraught with sense and wit, You'll grant are very hard to hit; But yet with patience you shall view As much as paint and art can do. Observe the work.' My lord replied: 'Till now I thought my mouth was wide; Besides, my mouth is somewhat long; Dear sir, for me, 'tis far too young.' _50 'Oh! pardon me,' the artist cried, 'In this, the painters must decide. The piece even common eyes must strike, I warrant it extremely like.' My lord examined it anew; No looking-glass seemed half so true. A lady came, with borrowed grace He from his Venus formed her face. Her lover praised the painter's art; So like the picture in his heart! _60 To every age some charm he lent; Even beauties were almost content. Through all the town his art they praised; His custom grew, his price was raised. Had he the real likeness shown, Would any man the picture own? But when thus happily he wrought, Each found the likeness in his thought. * * * * * FABLE XIX. THE LION AND THE CUB. How fond are men of rule and place, Who court it from the mean and base! These cannot bear an equal nigh, But from superior merit fly. They love the cellar's vulgar joke, And lose their hours in ale and smoke. There o'er some petty club preside; So poor, so paltry is their pride! Nay, even with fools whole nights will sit, In hopes to be supreme in wit. _10 If these can read, to these I write, To set their worth in truest light. A lion-cub, of sordid mind, Avoided all the lion kind; Fond of applause, he sought the feasts Of vulgar and ignoble beasts; With asses all his time he spent, Their club's perpetual president. He caught their manners, looks, and airs; An ass in every thing, but ears! _20 If e'er his highness meant a joke, They grinned applause before he spoke; But at each word what shouts of praise! Good gods! how natural he brays! Elate with flattery and conceit, He seeks his royal sire's retreat; Forward, and fond to show his parts, His highness brays; the lion starts. 'Puppy, that cursed vociferation Betrays thy life and conversation: _30 Coxcombs, an ever-noisy race, Are trumpets of their own disgrace.' 'Why so severe?' the cub replies; 'Our senate always held me wise.' 'How weak is pride!' returns the sire; 'All fools are vain, when fools admire! But know what stupid asses prize, Lions and noble beasts despise.' * * * * * FABLE XX. THE OLD HEN AND THE COCK.