The Flies

SAY, sire of insects, mighty Sol,
(A Fly upon the chariot pole
Cries out,) what Blue-bottle alive
Did ever with such fury drive ?
Tell Belzebub, great father, tell,
(Says t'other, perch'd upon the wheel,)
Did ever any mortal Fly
Raise such a cloud of dust as I ?
My judgment turn'd the whole debate :
My valour sav'd the sinking state.
So talk two idle buzzing things ;
Toss up their heads, and stretch their wings.
But let the truth to light be brought :
This neither spoke, nor t'other fought :
No merit in their own behaviour :
Both rais'd, but by their party's favour.