At length this Oak, all canker'd round,
And rotten to the Heart,
Became the Nuisance of the Ground,
And play'd the Tyrant's Part.

His monstrous Bulk the Moisture drain'd
From every Plant below;
The Vegetables all complain'd
Except the Misletoe.

A Field of Hemp, in this Distress,
For Vengeance loudly cry'd;
(Blest Plant! whose Virtues could redress
Our Woes, if well apply'd.)

Hemp ope'd his awful Mouth and spoke
To the oppressive Tree;
''Thou arrogant, aspiring Oak,
''No bigger once than me,

''Though pamper'd, by thy Master's Care,
''To feed his numerous Swine,
''Dar'st Thou with that fam'd Oak compare,
''Which sav'd the Royal Line?

'''Tis true, indeed, you both inclose
''A King for different Ends;
''He screen'd a Monarch from his Foes
''You guard him from his Friends.

''Acorns, I grant, Thou once did'st bear,
''But now grown fruitless quite,
''Chaplets become thy only Care,
''And Ribons thy Delight.

''Thy clumsy Trunk and awkard Air,
''With Garlands thus attir'd,
''Looks like a May--Pole in a Fair,
''By Sots and Fools admir'd.

''With the Dodonian Oak you vie,
''From him derive your Line.
''His Oracles prov'd all a Lye,
''And so I fear will Thine.

''But whether to those antient Plains
''Thou truely art a--kin,
''Or, as the Neighbourhood maintains,
''To modern Oaks of Lynn.

''Give Ear, and I thy Doom will shew;
''E'er many Months are past,
''Stript of thy Gew--gaws, Red and Blue,
''A Rope shall bind thee fast.

''For know, our most indulgent Lord
''The general Wish shall crown,
''And every Plant, with one Accord,
''Will join to pull thee down.

''Oft I've been told, on this fair Ground,
''That many a Traytor--Tree
''Hath been in Hempen Durance bound,
''Though stout and proud as Thee.

''Let Pagan Gods and Priests, a Score,
''To ward thy Fate combine;
''Though rescued from the Light'ning's Powe'r,
''Thou shalt submit to mine.