Fable I. Virtue and Fame

Some ages since, it so fell out, That meeting at OLYMPIC rout; (For goddesses have had their day, To be as modern ladies gay;) Two females, mostly known by name, One VIRTUE call'd—the other FAME, Disputed who should lead, or follow, Into the presence of APOLLO.

The matter, after verbal fight, Was brought before the God of light; When FAME, remark'd for nimble tongue, Addressing first, complain'd of wrong.

Shall I, declaim'd the winged fair, Who boast such eyes, so fine an air; With almost ev'ry beauty grac'd, Be thus in competition plac'd, With such a formal, homely creature, Without one fashionable feature?

Shall I, to whom the Great resort, Whom Monarchs have been proud to court, Provoking fate, midst War's alarms, To gain possession of my charms; Precedence yield to one so mean, Amongst the great so seldom seen? Whom rustic cots can better please, Than dear, inchanting palaces? The very thought is fill'd with shame, And judgment gives in right of FAME.

She paus'd—APOLLO then desir'd Such answer as the cause requir'd; Which VIRTUE thus, with modest grace, An easy shape, and cherub face, Declar'd before the court in brief, Thence justly claiming fit relief.

This girlish female, God of day, To knaves and fools a frequent prey, Of high connections boasts in vain, Light phantoms of her idle brain: Greatness you'll own—without my care, A baseless castle in the air; And rural cots, where I resort, Much nobler than a vicious court.

'Tis true, she posts the world around, And fills it with a mighty sound; O'er mankind rules in various spheres, And leads them captive by the ears; Yet what of this, when oft she flies To propagate the grossest lies, And wounds, in blackest guilt's defence, The cause of spotless innocence? Here then let ill tim'd diff'rence end, On worth and justice I depend.

The judge who heard with much respect, His sentence pass'd to this effect; Spoke all his thoughts, without disguise, Th' impartial CAMDEN of the skies.

VIRTUE no doubt may justly claim Precedence from contending FAME; Tho' monumental falshoods pass With fools, because engrav'd on brass: Tho' villains of gigantic size, In marble statues vainly rise: Tho' titles, coronets, and state, Like gew-gaws, deck th' unworthy great: Tho' venal authors gild a name, Which sacred truth would brand with shame: A cheated people's loud huzzas, With all the farce of earthly praise; By VIRTUE unsupported fail, And vanish, like the passing gale. Then, madam FAME, deceitful beauty, 'Tis fit that you confess your duty; For, tho' exalted by a throne, You cannot long exist alone; Virtue, observe, I recommend, As kindest parent, truest friend: Beneath whose just, and gentle sway, You'll live 'till time itself decay.

I look into the womb of time, And view a yet unnotic'd clime; By Neptune's azure flood enclos'd, Where harrass'd freedom safe repos'd, Shall gain you with a gracious smile, To live as friends in BRITAIN'S isle; To beam your lustre round her throne, And mark her monarch all your own.