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1712–1757

FABLE III.

Edward Moore

The prudent nymph, whose cheeks disclose The lily and the blushing rose, From public view her charms will skreen, And rarely in the crowd be seen:

This simple truth shall keep her wise, “The fairest fruits attract the flies.” One night a GLOW-WORM, proud and vain, Contemplating her glitt'ring train,

Cry'd sure there never was in nature, So elegant, so fine a creature; All other insects that I see, The frugal ANT, industrious BEE,

Or SILK-WORM, with contempt I view; With all that low, mechanic crew, Who servilely their lives employ In business, enemy to joy.

Mean, vulgar herd! ye are my scorn, For grandeur only I was born; Or sure am sprung from race divine, And plac'd on earth to live and shine.

Those lights, that sparkle so on high, Are but the GLOW-WORMS of the sky; And kings on earth their gems admire, Because they imitate my fire.

She spoke. Attentive on a spray, A NIGHTINGALE forbore his lay; He saw the shining morsel near, And flew, directed by the glare;

Awhile he gaz'd with sober look, And thus the trembling prey bespoke: Deluded fool, with pride elate, Know,‘ tis thy beauty brings thy fate;

Less dazzling, long thou might'st have lain, Unheeded on the velvet plain; Pride, soon or late, degraded mourns, And beauty wrecks whom she adorns.

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FABLE III. · Edward Moore · Poetry Cove