The Spaniel and the CameleonFable IIA spaniel, bred with all the careThat waits upon a favourite heir,Ne’er felt correction’s rigid hand;Indulged to disobey command,In pampered ease his hours were spent;He never knew what learning meant.Such forward airs, so pert, so smart,Were sure to win his lady’s heart;Each little mischief gained him praise;How pretty were his fawning ways! The wind was south, the morning fair,He ventured forth to take the air.He ranges all the meadow round,And rolls upon the softest ground:When near him a cameleon seen,Was scarce distinguished from the green. ’Dear emblem of the flattering host,What, live with clowns! a genius lost!To cities and the court repair:A fortune cannot fail thee there:Preferment shall thy talents crown,Believe me, friend; I know the town.’ ’Sir,’ says the sycophant, ’like you,Of old, politer life I knew:Like you, a courtier born and bred;Kings leaned an ear to what I said.My whisper always met success;The ladies praised me for address,I knew to hit each courtier’s passion,And flattered every vice in fashion.But Jove, who hates the liar’s ways,At once cut short my prosperous days;And, sentenced to retain my nature,Transformed me to this crawling creature.Doomed to a life obscure and mean,I wander in the sylvan scene.For Jove the heart alone regards;He punishes what man rewards.How different is thy case and mine!With men at least you sup and dine;While I, condemned to thinnest fare,Like those I flattered feed on air.’