Page:The Battle of the Books, and Other Short Pieces.djvu/143

 But gluttony was ne'er his vice: In every turn of life content, And meekly took what fortune sent: Enquire through all the parish round, A better neighbour ne'er was found: His vigilance might some displease; 'Tis true, he hated sloth like pease.

The mimic ape began his chatter, How evil tongues his life bespatter: Much of the cens'ring world complained, Who said his gravity was feigned: Indeed, the strictness of his morals Engaged him in a hundred quarrels: He saw, and he was grieved to see't, His zeal was sometimes indiscreet: He found his virtues too severe For our corrupted times to bear: Yet, such a lewd licentious age Might well excuse a stoic's rage.

The goat advanced with decent pace: And first excused his youthful face; Forgiveness begged, that he appeared ('Twas nature's fault) without a beard. 'Tis true, he was not much inclined To fondness for the female kind; Not, as his enemies object,