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most impertinent.' _30 The hovering insect thus complained: 'Am I then slighted, scorned, disdained? Can such offence your anger wake? 'Twas beauty caused the bold mistake. Those cherry lips that breathe perfume, That cheek so ripe with youthful bloom, Made me with strong desire pursue The fairest peach that ever grew.' 'Strike him not, Jenny,' Doris cries, 'Nor murder wasps like vulgar flies: _40 For though he's free (to do him right) The creature's civil and polite.' In ecstacies away he posts; Where'er he came, the favour boasts; Brags how her sweetest tea he sips, And shows the sugar on his lips. The hint alarmed the forward crew; Sure of success, away they flew. They share the dainties of the day, Round her with airy music play; _50 And now they flutter, now they rest, Now soar again, and skim her breast. Nor were they banished, till she found That wasps have stings, and felt the wound. * * * * * FABLE IX. THE BULL AND THE MASTIFF. Seek you to train your fav'rite boy? Each caution, every care employ: And ere you venture to confide, Let his preceptor's heart be tried: Weigh well his manners, life, and scope; On these depends thy future hope. As on a time, in peaceful reign, A bull enjoyed the flowery plain, A mastiff passed; inflamed with ire, His eye-balls shot indignant fire; _10 He foamed, he raged with thirst of blood Spurning the ground the monarch stood, And roared aloud, 'Suspend the fight; In a whole skin go sleep to-night: Or tell me, ere the battle rage, What wrongs provoke thee to engage? Is it ambition fires thy breast, Or avarice that ne'er can rest? From these alone unjustly springs The world-destroying wrath of kings.' _20 The surly mastiff thus returns: 'Within my bosom glory burns. Like heroes of eternal name, Whom poets sing, I fight for fame. The butcher's spirit-stirring mind To daily war my youth inclined; He trained me to heroic deed; Taught me to conquer, or to bleed.' 'Cursed dog,' the bull replied, 'no more I wonder at thy thirst of gore; _30 For thou, beneath a butcher trained, Whose hands with cruelty are stained; His daily murders in thy view, Must, like thy tutor, blood pursue. Take then thy fate.' With goring wound, At once he lifts him from the ground; Aloft the sprawling
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