FABLE
[
43
]
XLIII
.
The
Council
of
Horses
.
Upon
a
time
a
neighing
steed
,
Who
graz'd
among
a
num'rous
breed
,
With
mutiny
had
fir'd
the
train
,
And
spread
dissention
through
the
plain
.
On
matters
that
concern'd
the
State
The
council
met
in
grand
debate
.
A
colt
,
whose
eye-balls
flam'd
with
ire
,
Elate
with
strength
and
youthful
fire
,
In
haste
stept
forth
before
the
rest
,
And
thus
the
list'ning
throng
addrest
.
Good
Gods
!
how
abject
is
our
race
,
Condemn'd
to
slav'ry
and
disgrace
!
Shall
we
our
servitude
retain
,
Because
our
sires
have
born
the
chain
?
Consider
,
friends
,
your
strength
and
might
;
'Tis
conquest
to
assert
your
right
.
How
cumb'rous
is
the
gilded
coach
!
The
pride
of
man
is
our
reproach
.
Were
we
design'd
for
daily
toil
,
To
drag
the
plough-share
through
the
soil
,
To
sweat
in
harness
through
the
road
,
To
groan
beneath
the
carrier's
load
?
How
feeble
are
the
two-legg'd
kind
!
What
force
is
in
our
nerves
combin'd
!
Shall
then
our
nobler
jaws
submit
To
foam
and
champ
the
galling
bit
?
Shall
haughty
man
my
back
bestride
?
Shall
the
sharp
spur
provoke
my
side
?
Forbid
it
Heav'ns
!
Reject
the
rein
,
Your
shame
,
your
infamy
disdain
.
Let
him
the
lyon
first
controul
,
And
still
the
tyger's
famish'd
growle
:
Let
us
,
like
them
,
our
freedom
claim
,
And
make
him
tremble
at
our
name
.
A
general
nod
approv'd
the
cause
,
And
all
the
circle
neigh'd
applause
.
When
,
lo
,
with
grave
and
solemn
pace
A
steed
advanc'd
before
the
race
,
With
age
and
long
experience
wise
,
Around
he
cast
his
thoughtful
eyes
,
And
,
to
the
murmurs
of
the
train
,
Thus
spoke
the
Nestor
of
the
plain
.
When
I
had
health
and
strength
,
like
you
,
The
toils
of
servitude
I
knew
;
Now
grateful
man
rewards
my
pains
,
And
gives
me
all
these
wide
domains
;
At
will
I
crop
the
year's
encrease
,
My
latter
life
is
rest
and
peace
.
I
grant
to
man
we
lend
our
pains
,
And
aid
him
to
correct
the
plains
;
But
doth
not
he
divide
the
care
,
Through
all
the
labours
of
the
year
?
How
many
thousand
structures
rise
,
To
fence
us
from
inclement
skies
!
For
us
he
bears
the
sultry
day
,
And
stores
up
all
our
winter's
hay
;
He
sows
,
he
reaps
the
harvest's
gain
,
We
share
the
toil
and
share
the
grain
.
Since
ev'ry
creature
was
decreed
To
aid
each
other's
mutual
need
,
Appease
your
discontented
mind
,
And
act
the
part
by
Heav'n
assign'd
.
The
tumult
ceas'd
.
The
colt
submitted
,
And
,
like
his
ancestors
,
was
bitted
.