A lion sunk by time's decay, <br />Too feeble grown to hunt his prey, <br />Observed his fatal hour draw nigh: <br />He drooped and laid him down to die. <br />There came by chance a savage boar, <br />Who trembled oft to hear him roar, <br />But when he saw him thus distressed <br />He tore and gored his royal breast. <br />A bull came next (ungen'rous foe), <br />Rejoiced to find him fall'n so low, <br />And with his horny-armed head <br />He aimed at once to strike him dead, - <br />He strikes, he wounds, he shocks in vain, <br />The lion still conceals his pain. <br />At length a base inglorious ass, <br />Who saw so many insults pass, <br />Came up and kicked him in the side: <br />'Twas this that raised the lion's pride. <br />He roused, and thus he spoke at length, <br />For indignation gave him strength: <br />Thou sorry, stupid, sluggish creature, <br />Disgrace and shame and scorn of nature! <br />You saw how well I could dispense <br />With blows from beasts of consequence! <br />They dignified the wounds they gave; <br />For none complain who feel the brave. <br />But you, the lowest of all brutes, <br />How ill your face with courage suits! <br />What dullness in thy looks appears! <br />I'd rather far (by heav'n 'tis true) <br />Expire by these than live by you: <br />A kick from thee is double death - <br />I curse thee with my dying breath! <br /> <br />The Moral <br /> <br />Rebukes are easy from our betters, <br />From men of quality and letters; <br />But when low dunces will affront, <br />What man alive can stand the brunt?<br /><br />Jonathan Swift<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-sick-lion-and-the-ass/
