The Ass And The Little Dog.

[1]      One's native talent from its course      Cannot be turned aside by force;      But poorly apes the country clown      The polish'd manners of the town.      Their Maker chooses but a few      With power of pleasing to imbue;      Where wisely leave it we, the mass,      Unlike a certain fabled ass,      That thought to gain his master's blessing      By jumping on him and caressing.      'What!' said the donkey in his heart;      'Ought it to be that puppy's part      To lead his useless life      In full companionship      With master and his wife,      While I must bear the whip?      What doth the cur a kiss to draw?      Forsooth, he only gives his paw!      If that is all there needs to please,      I'll do the thing myself, with ease.'      Possess'd with this bright notion, -      His master sitting on his chair,      At leisure in the open air, -      He ambled up, with awkward motion,      And put his talents to the proof;      Upraised his bruised and batter'd hoof,      And, with an amiable mien,      His master patted on the chin,      The action gracing with a word -      The fondest bray that e'er was heard!      O, such caressing was there ever?      Or melody with such a quaver?      'Ho! Martin![2] here! a club, a club bring!'      Out cried the master, sore offended.      So Martin gave the ass a drubbing, -      And so the comedy was ended.