The shrewd Proposal gall'd her Pride,
And thus to  she reply'd:
'Sir, you're extremely right I vow,
'But how will you come at me now?
'You dare not mount this lofty Tree,
'So there I'm pretty safe, you see.
'From long ago, (or Record lies)
'You Foxes have been counted wise:
'But sure this Story don't agree
'With your Device of eating me.
'For you, Dame Fortune still intends
'Some coarser Food than singing Hens:
'Besides e'er you can reach so high,
'Remember you must learn to fly.
'I own 'tis but a scurvy way,
'You have as yet to seize your Prey,
'By sculking from the Beams of Light,
'And robbing Hen-roosts in the Night:
'Yet you must keep this vulgar Trade
'Of thieving till your Wings are made.