Slavery in Miniature
|While George and Justice rules our British Isle ||No Popish Varlets shall our Rights defile.|
SLAVERY in Miniature: A FABLE.
Apply'd to the most Factious People of Great-Britain, 1745.
RE Britain's Peace is broken quite,
Ere Parties meet in deadly Fight;
Ere Blood is spilt and Treasure spent,
Our Crown remov'd or Kingdom rent.
Ye sensless Tribe with Patience hear,
A simple Fable, worth your Ear.
In Days of yore, when Beasts cou'd prate,
And argue on Affairs of State,
A Colony of Frogs whose Host
A free Prerogative did boast;
Till Faction, Avarice and Strife,
Depriv'd them of the happiest Life,
This Tribe inbred to Discontent,
Many Solicitations sent
To Jove, the Emp'ror of the Sky,
That he their Wish wou'd gratify,
And grant them from his radiant Seat,
A King to rule their jarring State.
But Jove their weak Request rejected,
And out of Pity long neglected;
The Consequence could plain foretel,
And bid them know when they were well.
But they unsatisfy'd persist,
That he wou'd answer their Request;
Tir'd out at last, Jove angry threw
A Log among this murm'ring Crew:
Amaz'd they stood, the mighty Fall
Diffus'd a Terror 'mongst 'em all
Their Fears dispers'd, they humbly came,
And paid due Homage to his Name.
Demur a while, was hush'd again,
They 'njoy'd, like us, a peaceful Reign;
They went, they came, they drank, they eat,
And laught nad talk'd as they thought fit.
But by Degrees their Pride grew high,
Indulg'd with too much Liberty;
They scorn their peaceful Prince's Reign,
And jarring Tumults rose again.
A King they cry! a helpless Weight,
Why don't he rise, exert his Might,
And put our daring Foes to flight?
Once more they importuned Jove,
That he'd this heedless King remove,
And grant them one whose mighty Sway
Wou'd make their Foes (and them) obey;
One active, bold, and stout beside,
And nearer to their Bands allied.
O Murmerers! Jove in Wrath reply'd.
Must I for ever bear your Pride?
You shall have Reason to complain,
And feel a cruel Tyrant's Reign.
Thus said, th' inraged Thunderer sends
A Stork triumphant o'er their Fens,
Who reign'd with arbitrary Sway,
Devouring all within his Way,
Or drove them forth, and in their Place
Advanc'd his own tyranick Race.
This fatal Change too soon appear'd,
What Groans around the Fens were heard!
Hoarse croaking Lamentations rise,
But Jove was deaf to all their Cries,
And left them, unredress'd, to bear
What they'd long sought with Earnest Pray'r.
From hence ye restless Britons learn,
'Twixt Good and Evil to discern:
All arbitrary Power disdain,
And prize that gracious Monarch's Reign,
Who rules by Law, loves Liberty,
Resolv'd his People shall be free.
Then let all Hearts in one firm Band unite,
T' repel the base Disturbers of his Right.