Classic Poem

I.

Isgrim , with Hunger press'd, one Day
As thro' the Woods he posted,
A Porcupine found on the way,
And in these Terms accosted.

II.

Our Wars are ended, Heav'n be prais'd!
Then let's sit down and prattle
Of Towns invested, Sieges rais'd,
And what we did in Battle.

III.

The Plains a pleasing Prospect yield,
No Fire, nor Desolation;
While Plenty reigns in every Field,
And Trade restores the Nation.

IV.

Yet you your Quills erected wear,
And tho' none seeks to harm ye;
In time of Peace about you bear,
Methinks, a Standing Army.

V.

Friend, quoth the Porcupine, 'tis true,
The War's at length decided;
But 'gainst such tricking Blades as you
'Tis good to be provided.

VI.

Censorious Fame shall never say,
That too much Faith betray'd me;
Who thinks of me to make a Prey,
Must at his Cost invade me.

VII.

Let him, that thinks it worth the while,
Tempt Knaves to make a Martyr;
The Sharpers that would me beguile,
Shall find they've caught a Tartar.