80
The Hind and the Panther.
I am but few, and by your fare you sees
My crying sins are not of luxury.
Some juster motive sure your mind withdraws,
And makes you break our friendships holy laws,
For barefac'd envy is too base a cause.
My crying sins are not of luxury.
Some juster motive sure your mind withdraws,
And makes you break our friendships holy laws,
For barefac'd envy is too base a cause.
Show more occasion for your discontent,
Your love, the Wolf, wou'd help you to invent;
Some German quarrel, or, as times go now,
Some French, where force is uppermost, will doe.
When at the fountains head, as merit ought
To claim the place, you take a swilling draught,
How easie 'tis an envious eye to throw,
And tax the sheep for troubling streams below;
Or call her, (when no farther cause you find,)
An enemy profess'd of all your kind.
But then, perhaps, the wicked World wou'd think,
The Wolf design'd to eat as well as drink.
Your love, the Wolf, wou'd help you to invent;
Some German quarrel, or, as times go now,
Some French, where force is uppermost, will doe.
When at the fountains head, as merit ought
To claim the place, you take a swilling draught,
How easie 'tis an envious eye to throw,
And tax the sheep for troubling streams below;
Or call her, (when no farther cause you find,)
An enemy profess'd of all your kind.
But then, perhaps, the wicked World wou'd think,
The Wolf design'd to eat as well as drink.
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