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Secure, for no alarming cranes molest,

And all their woes in long oblivion rest:
Down the deep dale, and narrow winding way,
They foot it featly, ranged in ringlets gay:
'Tis joy and frolick all, where'er they rove,
And Fairy-people is the name they love.

THE HARES,

A FABLE.

YES, yes, I grant the sons of earth

Are doom'd to trouble from their birth.

We all of sorrow have our share ;

But say, is yours without compare?

Look round the world; perhaps you'll find

Each individual of our kind

Press'd with an equal load of ill,
Equal at least. Look further still,

And own your lamentable case
Is little short of happiness.
In yonder hut that stands alone
Attend to Famine's feeble moan;
Or view the couch where Sickness lies,
Mark his pale cheek, and languid eyes,
His frame by strong convulsion torn,
His struggling sighs, and looks forlorn,

Or see, transfix'd with keener pangs,
Where o'er his hoard the miser hangs;
Whistles the wind; he starts, he stares,
Nor Slumber's balmy blessing shares;
Despair, Remorse, and Terror roll
Their tempests on his harass'd soul.
But here perhaps it may avail
T'enforce our reasoning with a tale.
Mild was the morn, the sky serene,

The jolly hunting band convene,

The beagle's breast with ardour burns,

The bounding steed the champaign spurns,

And Fancy oft the game descries

Through the hound's nose, and huntsman's eyes.

Just then, a council of the hares

Had met, on national affairs.

The chiefs were set; while o'er their head

The furze its frizzled covering spread.

Long lists of grievances were heard,
And general discontent appear'd.

"Our harmless race shall every savage

"Both quadruped and biped ravage?

"Shall horses, hounds, and hunters still
"Unite their wits to work us ill?
"The youth, his parent's sole delight,
"Whose tooth the dewy lawns invite,
"Whose pulse in every vein beats strong,
"Whose limbs leap light the vales along,
"May yet ere noontide meet his death,
"And lie dismember'd on the heath.

"For youth, alas, nor cautious age,

"Nor strength, nor speed, eludes their rage.

"In every field we meet the foe,

"Each gale comes fraught with sounds of wo;

"The morning but awakes our fears,

"The evening sees us bathed in tears.

"But must we ever idly grieve,

"Nor strive our fortunes to relieve?

"Small is each individual's force:

"To stratagem be our recourse;

"And then, from all our tribes combined, "The murderer to his cost may find

"No foes are weak, whom Justice arms,

"Whom Concord leads, and Hatred warms.

"Be roused; or liberty acquire,
"Or in the great attempt expire."

He said no more, for in his breast.
Conflicting thoughts the voice suppress'd:
The fire of vengeance seem'd to stream
From his swoln eyeball's yellow gleam.
And now the tumults of the war,
Mingling confusedly from afar,

Swell in the wind. Now louder cries

Distinct of hounds and men arise.

Forth from the brake, with beating heart,
Th' assembled hares tumultuous start,

And, every straining nerve on wing,
Away precipitately spring.

The hunting band, a signal given,

Thick thundering o'er the plain are driven ;

O'er cliff abrupt, and shrubby mound,
And river broad, impetuous bound; .

Now plunge amid the forest shades,

Glance through the openings of the glades ; Now o'er the level valley sweep,

Now with short steps strain up the steep;

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