"
The guest replied--"My friend, your leave
I must a little longer crave;
Stay till my tender cubs can find
Their way--for now, you see, they're blind;
But, when we've gather'd strength, I swear,
We'll to our barn again repair."
The time pass'd on; and Music came
Her kennel once again to claim,
But Bawty, lost to shame and honour,
Set all her cubs at once upon her;
Made her retire, and quit her right,
And loudly cried--"A bite! bite!"
THE MORAL
Thus did the Grecian wooden horse
Conceal a fatal armed force:
No sooner brought within the walls,
But Ilium's lost, and Priam falls.
[Footnote 1: _See post_, "A Tale of a Nettle."]
[Footnote 2: The Church of England.]
[Footnote 3: A Scotch name for bitch, alluding to the kirk.]
HORACE, BOOK III, ODE II
TO THE EARL OF OXFORD, LATE LORD TREASURER
SENT TO HIM WHEN IN THE TOWER, 1716
These spirited verses, although they have not the affecting pathos of
those addressed by Pope to the same great person, during his misfortunes,
evince the firmness of Swift's political principles and personal
attachment.--_Scott._ See Moral Essays, Epistle V, Pope's "Works," edit.
Elwin and Courthope, iii, 191.--_W. E. B._
How blest is he who for his country dies,
Since death pursues the coward as he flies!
The youth in vain would fly from Fate's attack;
With trembling knees, and Terror at his back;
Though Fear should lend him pinions like the wind,
Yet swifter Fate will seize him from behind.
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