Porkopolis

The Hog, the Sheep, and Goat, carrying to a FAIR

• Who does not wish, ever to judge aright,
• And, in the Course of Life’s Affairs,
• To have a quick, and far extended Sight,
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• Tho’ it too often multiplies his Cares?
• And who has greater Sense, but greater Sorrow shares?
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• This felt the Swine, now carrying to the Knife;
• And whilst the Lamb and silent Goat
• In the same fatal Cart lay void of Strife,
• He widely stretches his foreboding Throat,
• Deaf’ning the easy Crew with his outragious Note.
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• The angry Driver chides th’unruly Beast,
• And bids him all this Noise forbear;
• Nor be more loud, nor clamorous than the rest,
• Who with him travel’d to the neighb’ring Fair.
• And quickly shou’d arrive, and be unfetter’d there.
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• This, quoth the Swine, I do believe, is true,
• And see we’re very near the Town;
• Whilst these poor Fools of short, and bounded View,
• Think ’twill be well, when you have set them down,
• And eas’d One of her Milk, the Other of her Gown.
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• But all the dreadful Butchers in a Row,
• To my far–searching Thoughts appear,
• Who know indeed, we to the Shambles go,
• Whilst I, whom none but Belzebub wou’d shear,
• Nor but his Dam wou’d milk, must for my Carcase fear.
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• But tell me then, will it prevent thy Fate?
• The rude unpitying Farmer cries;
• If not, the Wretch who tastes his Suff’rings late,
• Not He, who thro’ th’unhappy Future prys,
• Must of the Two be held most Fortunate and Wise.

The Eagle, the Sow, and the Cat

• THE Queen of Birds, t’encrease the Regal Stock,
• Had hatch’d her young Ones in a stately Oak,
• Whose Middle–part was by a Cat possest,
• And near the Root with Litter warmly drest,
• A teeming Sow had made her peaceful Nest.
• (Thus Palaces are cramm’d from Roof to Ground,
• And Animals, as various, in them found.)
• When to the Sow, who no Misfortune fear’d,
• Puss with her fawning Compliments appear’d,
• Rejoicing much at her Deliv’ry past,
• And that she ’scap’d so well, who bred so fast.
• Then every little Piglin she commends,
• And likens them to all their swinish Friends;
• Bestows good Wishes, but with Sighs implies,
• That some dark Fears do in her Bosom rise.
• Such Tempting Flesh, she cries, will Eagles spare?
• Methinks, good Neighbour, you should live in Care:
• Since I, who bring not forth such dainty Bits,
• Tremble for my unpalatable Chits;
• And had I but foreseen, the Eagle’s Bed
• Was in this fatal Tree to have been spread;
• I sooner wou’d have kitten’d in the Road,
• Than made this Place of Danger my abode.
• I heard her young Ones lately cry for Pig,
• And pity’d you, that were so near, and big.
• In Friendship this I secretly reveal,
• Lest Pettitoes shou’d make th’ ensuing Meal;
• Or else, perhaps, Yourself may be their aim,
• For a Sow’s Paps has been a Dish of Fame.
• No more the sad, affrighted Mother hears,
• But overturning all with boist’rous Fears,
• She from her helpless Young in haste departs,
• Whilst Puss ascends, to practice farther Arts.
• The Anti–chamber pass’d, she scratch’d the Door;
• The Eagle, ne’er alarum’d so before,
• Bids her come in, and look the Cause be great,
• That makes her thus disturb the Royal Seat;
• Nor think, of Mice and Rats some pest’ring Tale
• Shall, in excuse of Insolence, prevail.
• Alas! my Gracious Lady, quoth the Cat,
• I think not of such Vermin; Mouse, or Rat
• To me are tasteless grown; nor dare I stir
• To use my Phangs, or to expose my Fur.
• A Foe intestine threatens all around,
• And ev’n this lofty Structure will confound;
• A Pestilential Sow, a meazel’d Pork
• On the Foundation has been long at work,
• Help’d by a Rabble, issu’d from her Womb,
• Which she has foster’d in that lower Room;
• Who now for Acorns are so madly bent,
• That soon this Tree must fall, for their Content.
• I wou’d have fetch’d some for th’ unruly Elves;
• But ’tis the Mob’s delight to help Themselves:
• Whilst your high Brood must with the meanest drop,
• And steeper be their Fall, as next the Top;
• Unless you soon to Jupiter repair,
• And let him know, the Case demands his Care.
• Oh! May the Trunk but stand, ’till you come back!
• But hark! already sure, I hear it crack.
• Away, away — The Eagle, all agast,
• Soars to the Sky, nor falters in her haste:
• Whilst crafty Puss, now o’er the Eyry reigns,
• Replenishing her Maw with treach’rous Gains.
• The Sow she plunders next, and lives alone;
• The Pigs, the Eaglets, and the House her own.
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• Curs’d Sycophants! How wretched is the Fate
• Of those, who know you not, till ’tis too late!