The Bullfinch and Sparrow

O greatness, and its pompous train,
What notions false, we entertain!
The glitt'ring dress, the splendid feast,
Those seeking most who know them least;
Our time, anxiety, and cost,
In the vain acquisition lost.

Its joys and griefs to every state
Adapted by the will of fate,
The man we envy, oft as blest,
In secret pines, with care oppress'd!
Of this, though trite, just observation,
My fable is an illustration.

As, on the rake, one winter's day,
A town-bred sparrow wing'd his way,
Possess'd of each engaging art
To win the feather'd sair one's heart,
To all his rivals still preferr'd,
The fav'rite of each female bird.
He lighted near an ancient seat,
Whose turrets mark the squire's retreat;
The mansion, where renown'd in fame,
Resides the guardian of the game;
Or the right worshipful the mayor,
Whose corporation's all his care.

There, hopping round from tree to tree
Curious, no doubt, to hear and see,
A bullfinch, from a window nigh,
Attracted the young rover's eye.
Struck with the warbler's gilded cage,
He glow'd with envy, grief, and rage.
"How partial,"he exclaim'd, "is fate!
"See how that bullfinch lives in state,
"The happiest of the feather'd race!
"How diff'rent the poor sparrow's case!
"He, shelter'd from the winds and rain,
"Still chaunts at ease his warbling strain.
"While I sit, shiv'ring in the shower,
"Expos'd through each inclement hour
"To nipping frosts, or melting snows;
"Ills that no pamper'd bullfinch knows!
"He, cherish'd at a sumptuous board,
"Is lodg'd and feasted like a lord;
"Fondled, and by his master fed,
"With sweetest cakes and whitest bread;
"While after me the village runs,
"With pelting stones and popping guns;
"Forc'd by such barb'rous sport to fly,
"A miserable wand'rer I,
"In the more hospitable wood
"Pick, up and down, precarious food.
"Hard lot! alas! how diff'rent mine,
"Compar'd, thrice happy bird! with thine.
"Why, cruel fate! live I to rue
"I was not hatch'd a bullfinch too!"

The finch, in quite a well-bred way,
Heard what our sparrow had to say,
And understood him, though at distance,
Without th' interpreter's assistance.
Indeed a bird, not quite a fool,
Brought up in so polite a school,
Could not be thought in want of learning:
A word's enough to the discerning.
Not comprehend the vulgar folk!
Poh, comprehend! tis all a joke.
Smiling to find the aukward blunder
The foolish fellow labour'd under;
He, pluming up his haughty crest,
The envious grumbler thus address'd:
"Sure, my good friend, you're touch'd in brain,
"To talk in this mistaken strain;
"'Tis true there's something. of a smattering
"Of wit, in what you have been chattering;
"But, chirp as smartly as you will
"Trust me you reason very ill;
"And, to be serious for a while,
"In truth, your envy makes me smile.
"What is there in this fine gilt cage
"So much your fancy should engage?
"These wires my prison bars, where I,
"A splendid slave, must live and die!
"Go hence, content, and learn of me,
"How vain the finery you see.
"Forbear my joys tree bliss to call:
"Thy liberty is worth them all."