Page:Poems of Anne Countess of Winchilsea 1903.djvu/315

 COUNTESS OF WINCHILSEA ���177 ���THE BRASS-POT, AND STONE-JUGG A Fable �A Brazen Pot, by scouring vext, �With Beef and Pudding still perplext, �Resolv'd t' attempt a nobler Life, �Urging the Jugg to share the Strife: �Brother, quoth he, (Love to endear) �Why shou'd We Two continue here, �To serve and cook such homely Cheer? �Who tho' we move with awkward pace, �Your stony Bowels, and my Face, �Abroad can't miss of Wealth and Place. 10 �Then let us instantly be going, �And see what in the World is Doing. �The bloated Jugg, supine and lazy, �Who made no Wish, but to be easy, �Nor, like it's Owner, e'er did think �Of ought, but to be fill'd with Drink ; �Yet something mov'd by this fine Story, �And frothing higher with Vain-glory, �Reply 'd, he never wanted Metal, �But had not Sides, like sturdy Kettle, 20 �That in a Croud cou'd shove and bustle, �And to Preferment bear the Justle ; �When the first Knock would break His Measures, �And stop his Rise to Place and Treasures. �Sure (quoth the Pot} thy Scull is thicker, �Than ever was thy muddiest Liquor: �Go I not with thee, for thy Guard, �To take off Blows, and Dangers ward? �And hast thou never heard, that Cully �Is borne thro' all by daring Bully ? 80 �Your self (re ply 'd the Drink-con veigher) ��� �