Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 8.djvu/84

74 They hear his voice, and frighted fly, For rage had rais'd it very high: Sham'd by the wisdom of his notes, They hide their heads, and hush their throats.

N ancient times, the wise were able In proper terms to write a fable: Their tales would always justly suit The characters of every brute. The ass was dull, the lion brave, The stag was swift, the fox a knave; The daw a thief, the ape a droll, The hound would scent, the wolf would prowl: A pigeon would, if shown by Æsop, Fly from the hawk, or pick his pease up. Far otherwise a great divine Has learnt his fables to refine: He jumbles men and birds together, As if they all were of a feather: You see him first the peacock bring, Against all rules, to be a king; That in his tail he wore his eyes, By which he grew both rich and wise. Now, pray, observe the doctor's choice, A peacock chose for flight and voice: Did