FABLE 39

The Father and Jupiter

The Man to Jove his suit preferr’d;
He begg’d a wife: his prayer was heard.
Jove wonder’d at his bold addressing;
For how precarious is the blessing!
A wife he takes: and now for heirs
Again he worries Heaven with prayers.
Jove nods assent: two hopeful boys
And fine girl reward his joys.
Now more solicitous he grew,
And set their future lives in view
He saw that all respect and duty
Were paid to wealth, to power, and beauty.
“Once more,” he cries, “accept my prayer;
Make my loved progeny thy care:
Let my first hope, my favourite boy,
All Fortune’s richest gifts enjoy.
My next with strong ambition fire:
May favour teach him to aspire,
Till he the step of power ascend,
And courtiers to their idol bend.
With every grace, with every charm,
My daughter’s perfect features arm.
If Heaven approve, a Father’s blest.”
Jove smiles, and grants his full request.
The first, a miser at the heart,
Studious of every griping art,
Heaps hoards on hoards with anxious pain,
And all his life devotes to gain.
He feels no joy, his cares increase,
He neither wakes, nor sleeps, in peace;
In fancied want (a wretch complete)
He starves, and yet he dares not eat.
The next to sudden honours grew;
The thriving art of courts he knew;
He reach’d the height of power and place,
Then fell, the victim of disgrace.
Beauty with early bloom supplies
His daughter’s cheek and points her eyes.
The vain coquette each suit disdains,
And glories in her lovers’ pains.
With age she fades, each lover flies:
Contemn’d, forlorn, she pines and dies.
When Jove the Father’s grief survey’d,
And heard him Heaven and Fate upbraid,
Thus spoke the god: “By outward show,
Men judge of happiness and woe:
Shall ignorance of good and ill
Dare to direct th’ eternal will?
Seek virtue: and, of that possess’d,
To Providence resign the rest.”