Fable XII. the Lion and Fox

A LION, full of youthful blood, Who rul'd at large a spacious wood; Whom flatterers had often told, No spear could pierce, no toil could hold; Like some amongst the human kind, Was plagu'd with an ambitious mind; By birth possess'd with ample store, He sigh'd, and vainly wish'd for more; And restless deem'd his royal lot, Pent up within too small a spot.

Possess'd of this, in waking dreams, He laid ten thousand frantic schemes; Projected conquests far and wide, Extended rule on ev'ry side; Saw savage nations fall before him, And many thousands more adore him; Nay, saw in his unbounded plan, His sceptre sway the tyrant man.

At length, vouchsafing to impart The mighty purpose of his heart A FOX, who many years had been Chief actor in each busy scene; And therefore well knew how to fix The real worth of politics; Who warm'd with patriotic zeal, Preferr'd, to gain, the common weal; Presum'd, without disguise, to ask, That he might share his Prince's task; Or haply cool, by timely truth, The ardour of impetuous youth.

Why thus, my friend, the LION cries, Beyond myself I mean to rise; And more t'exalt my present state, Henceforth to be surnam'd—the GREAT.

Thou know'st the forest which lies south, Beyond the Golden Valley's mouth; With awful caves, and choice of sport, Where TYGER keeps his mimic court; I'll seize by force the vast domain, To add new strength, and grace my reign; From thence, with most resistless force, March to the sable river's course; Hurl haughty LEOPARD from his throne, And make that plenteous realm my own: Then our victorious banners wave, 'Till ELEPHANT becomes my slave: Inferior princes at my call, Must homage pay, and prostrate fall.

Thus, when a world salutes me King, And boundless nations tribute bring; I'll turn towards my native soil, And there enjoy my glorious toil.

The FOX replied, Your royal name, My Liege, and your immortal fame; Join'd to your happy kingdom's good, I tender dearly as my blood; This forces truth upon my tongue, And pardon claims, should I be wrong.

Look round, and see, with calm content, The realm you govern by descent; With Heav'n's best gifts supremely bless'd, With plenty crown'd, and joy and rest, See happiness thro' ev'ry part Diffus'd to glad your princely heart; Each beast with pleasure howls your praise, And views you with admiring gaze; What then should more a King rejoice, Than Loyalty's approving voice?

I know, great sir, that young in life, Unpractis'd too, in martial strife; Ambition cries, Your mighty paw Should keep the prostrate world in awe; But let the restless source of care, Be banish'd from your bosom far; That fever of an heated mind, To yours, and gen'ral safety blind.

Suppose, for once, the fairest view Which FAME and FORTUNE could pursue; Suppose success with rapid force Should urge you o'er a downhill course; That ev'ry wind, and ev'ry stream, Should waft you tow'rds your golden dream; Nay, grant beyong the utmost scope Of warmest wish, and boldest hope; Ten thousand cares, unknown before, Surrounding, will perplex you more; Our history, like that of man, Will contradict your dang'rous plan; For jealous eyes must still pursue, Your conquests, with malicious view; Compulsion, sage experience shows, An origin of restless foes; And limbs beyond the body grown, May overweigh, perhaps, your throne.

Next let Reflection's eye advance, And view with care precarious chance; The fate of war in ballance hung, May speak with most persuasive tongue; Let Fancy, like a faithful scout, Bring to your sight a total rout; Behold your scatter'd warriors fly, Or vanquish'd in the battle die; With fell revenge the conqu'rors burn, To waste your kingdom in return; On ev'ry side your subjects fall; What pow'r can banish'd life recall? See Desolation's dreary face Glare horrible in ev'ry place; By no restrictive rulers aw'd, See Famine, Murder, stalk abroad, See all, which seen makes Nature shrink, And learn, my prince, betimes to think.

You judge, perhaps, an active mind, In peaceful times too much confin'd; And think with Glory's dreams possess'd, That all but war is slothful rest; Yet monarchs in the calmest hour, May show the brightest beams of pow'r.

To frame new wholesome laws, or give Due influence to those which live; To banish vice, and always be The bounteous friend of industry; To hold the worthy in regard, And cherish merit with reward; Is sure a safer, milder way To FAME which never can decay; Than that which martial glory leads, While wounded Nature groaning bleeds.

This truth, my Royal Lord, receive, And as you know my love, believe— War combats Reason, Virtue, Sense, Unless declar'd for self-defence; In such a case the heart must warm, While Nature bids the weakest arm; Repelling wrong, protecting right, Your subjects will with pleasure fight; And bravely dare Death's darkest frown, To save their freedom, and your crown.

Then, Sir, to grace your royal blood, Shine truly GREAT, in being GOOD.