Where lived a tribe of mortals black,
With each a hump upon his back;
A burthen common to the nation

Thro' each such successive generation.

The comely God, well-shaped and fair,
March'd forward with a graceful air;
While, gathering round, the gaping throng
Wonder'd, and hooted him along.

This

gave a kick, and that a thump;
All crying, Where's the fellow's hump?
The females too, among the rest,
Their detestation had express'd;

While luscious jokes were cut and crack'd,
To see a man so slender back'd;

Eager each flirt to have a fling,

At such a pale faced ugly thing.

Nay, heaven knows where their taunts had ended,

If fate the God had not befriended.

But so, it chanced, a sober sage
Advanced, revered for sense and age;
Made wise by time and observation,
His knowledge gleaned from every nation;
He whites had seen, as well as blacks,
No mountains bearing on their backs;

And knew, from reason consequential,
Colour and form, were not essential.
Yet still too wise to call in doubt
The wisdom of the rabble rout:

He thus, the stranger to protect,
Address'd the mob with due respect.
"O give, my friends, your insults o'er,
"Nor vex this hapless creature more :
"What tho' before our eyes we see
"A lump of fair deformity;
"Not e'en a mole-hill on his shoulder,
"To captivate one black beholder;
"But like an unshaped log he stands,
"Unfinish'd left by Nature's hands
"Yet mock him not, in cruel pride,
"For wanting what the Gods deny'd:
"'Tis affectation makes the fool

"No object this of ridicule.

"It might have been your fate or mine,

"To want the human hump divine;

"And each of us, an ugly sight,

Might have flat-shoulder'd been and white:

"If therefore heaven, to us so kind,

"Give the protuberance behind,

"Thanks to the Gods with fervour pray,

"But send this wretch unhurt away."

The mob on every word intent,

With some few murmurings gave consent;
When now the sage the God address'd
And thus dismiss'd the injured guest.

"On earth a welcome wouldst thou find, "Go hence and learn to know mankind. "In other lands thy form and face, "May challenge comliness and grace; "But here to beauty are we blind, "If wanting of a hump behind. "Thus every nation, every tribe, "Peculiar sentiments imbibe; "And beauty, virtue, sense, lay claim "To little more than empty name; " Varied in every clime and nation, "As suits the general situation. "Hence, judging each by different rules, "They think each other knaves or fools;

"While no defect or vice is known,

"Unless it differs from their own.

"To turn the shafts of scorn aside,
"Then take this maxim for your guide:
"Go where you will, be sure to wear
"The general hump the people bear :

"He's ne'er accounted fool or rogue, "Whose vice or folly is in vogue,"

The Bullfinch and Sparrow,

A Fable, from the French, of the King of Prussia.

OF greatness, and its pompous train,
What notions false, we entertain!

The glittering dress, the splendid feast,
Those seeking most, who know them least;
Our time anxiety, and cost,
In the vain acquisition lost.

Its joy and grief, to every state
Adapted by the will of fate,

The man we envy, oft as blest,

In secret pines, with care oppress'd!

Of this, though trite, just observation,
My fable is an illustration.

As, on the rake, one winter's day,
A town-bred sparrow wing'd his way,
Possess'd of each engaging art

To win the feather'd fair one's heart,

To all his rivals still preferr'd,

The favourite of each female bird.
He lighted near an ancient seat,

Whose turrets mark the squire's retreat;
The mansion, where renown'd in fame,
Resides the guardian of the game;
Or the right worshipful the Mayor,
Whose corporation's all his care.

There, hopping round from tree to tree,
Curious, no doubt, to hear and see,

A Bullfinch, from a window nigh,

Struck with the warbler's gilded cage, He glow'd with envy, grief and rage. "How partial," he exclaim'd, “is fate! "See how that Bullfinch lives in state, "The happiest of the feather'd race ! "How different the poor Sparrow's case ! "He, shelter'd from the winds and rain, "Still chaunts at ease his warbling strain. "While I sit, shivering in the shower, "Exposed through each inclement hour "To nipping frost, or melting snows; "Ills that no pamper'd Bullfinch knows!