The Fable of the Trees

Once on a time, when great Sir Oak Held all the Trees beneath his yoke, The Monarch, anxious to maintain In peaceful state his Sylvan reign, Saw, to his sorrow and distraction, His subject trees take root in faction, And, though late join'd in union hearty, Now branching into shoots of party. Each sturdy stick of factious wood Stood stiff and stout for Publick Good; For Patriots ever, 'tis well known, Seek other's welfare, not their own, And all they undertake, you know, Is meant pro Bono Publico. The hardy Fir, from northern earth Who took its name, and drew its birth, The Oak plac'd next him, to support His government, and grace his court. The Fir, of an uncommon size, Rearing his head unto the skies, O'er topp'd his fellow-plants: his height They view'd, and sicken'd at the sight: With envy ev'ry fibre swell'd, While in them the proud sap rebell'd. Shall then, they cried, the Ash, the Elm, The Beech, no longer rule the helm? What! shall th' ignoble Fir, a plant In tempest born and nurs'd in want, From the black regions of the North, And native famine, issue forth; In this our happier soil take root, And dare our birth-right to dispute?

On this the fatal storm began, Confusion through the Forest ran; Mischief in each dark shade was brewing, And all betoken'd gen'ral ruin: While each, to make their party good, Brib'd the vile shrubs and Underwood: And now, the Bramble and the Thistle Sent forth Ode, Essay, and Epistle; To which anon, with equal mettle, Reply'd the Thorn, and Stinging-nettle!

What's to be done? or how oppose The storm which in the Forest rose? Grief shook the mighty Monarch's mind, And his sighs labour'd in the wind. At length the tumult, strife and quarrel, Alarming the sagacious Laurel, His mind, unto the King he broke, And thus addrest him: Heart of Oak! Sedition is on foot; make ready; And fix your empire firm and steady. Faction in vain shall shake the wood, While you pursue the Gen'ral Good. Fear not a foe, trust not a friend, Upon Yourself alone depend! If not too partially allied By fear or love to either side, In vain shall jarring factions strive, Cabals in vain dark plots contrive. Slave to no foe, dupe to no minion, Maintain an equal just dominion: So shall you stand by storms unbroke, And all revere the Royal Oak.