. Fables. the mifer time employ ? Did I eer fee him life enjoy ? By me forfook, the hoards he won Are fcatterd by his lavifh fon. By me all ufeful arts are gaind, Wealth, learning, wifdom is attaind. Who then would think, fince fuch my powr, That eer I knew an idle hour ? So fubtile and fo fwift I fly, Loves not more fugitive than I. Who hath not heard coquettes complain Of days, months, years, mif-fpent in vain ? For time mif-usd they pine and wafle. And loves fweet pleafures never tafte. Thofe who dired their time aright, If love or wealth their hopes excite, In each purfuit fit hours employ
. Fables. the mifer time employ ? Did I eer fee him life enjoy ? By me forfook, the hoards he won Are fcatterd by his lavifh fon. By me all ufeful arts are gaind, Wealth, learning, wifdom is attaind. Who then would think, fince fuch my powr, That eer I knew an idle hour ? So fubtile and fo fwift I fly, Loves not more fugitive than I. Who hath not heard coquettes complain Of days, months, years, mif-fpent in vain ? For time mif-usd they pine and wafle. And loves fweet pleafures never tafte. Thofe who dired their time aright, If love or wealth their hopes excite, In each purfuit fit hours employd. And both by time have been enjoyd. How r yl B L i: ::. •> /How hccdlcfs then arc mortals giouii!I low little is their intreft known ?In cvry view tliey ought to minvi mc,For when once lofl they never find nic. He rjxjkc. The gcxls no more conteiJ,And his fupcrior gift confell;Thiit time, when truly underllfKxl,f- the moft precious earthly good. ,r•, r A [\ {. L 3o8 (r7tl%(/tTt rrt^jit/c. FABLE XIV. The Owl, the Swan, the Cock, the Spider,the Ass, a?id the Farmer. To a Mother. /^Onverfing with your fprightly boys. Your eyes have fpoke the mothers joys. With what delight Ive heard you quote Their fayings in imperfect note ! I grant. I F .1 n L R S. 3C9 I grant, in body and in mind,Nature ap|x.*nr5 profufcly not to Act you your part >Imprint jull morals on their heart;Impartially their tdents lean :Jull education forms die man. Perhaps, their genius yet unknown,Each lot of lifes already thrown ;That this llv-ill plead, the next Ihall ,The laft alTert the Churchs cenfure not tlic fond intent;But how precarious is th event!Hy talents mifapplyd and croli,Confider, all your fons are loft. One day, the talcs by Martial jXMind*A fadicr thus addrcfsd his train my boy, and call forth kuuw Ive fluck at no cxpcncc; V z 1 vc ^lo FABLES. Ive tryd him in the fevral arts, (The lad no doubt hath latent parts)
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Keywords: ., bookauthorgayjohn16851732, bookc, booksubjectfables, bookyear1757
