Alexandria Daily Gazette, Commercial & Political

From the Freeman's Journal.
A FABLE.
Recommended to the study of a great Man.

Two travellers in merry mood,
While sauntering through a pleasant wood;
Began together friendly chat,
And talk'd of this, and talk'd of that.
They came, as onward they were strolling
Where a small rivulet was rolling;
Upon one side the spreading yew,
And prickly thorn, and wortle grew:
The sun his radiant splendor shed,
Upon the water's limpid bed;
Thence from the bosom of the stream,
The naughty, rude, meredian beam,
As our two friends were passing by,
Struck on the one or other's eye,
"Zounds!" cries the angry man of might,
"The sun has nearly robb'd my sight."
Unruly sun, how durst thou shine,
And dim those piercing eyes of mine?'
Then like Caligula had done.
Who brav'd his gods, he curst the sun:
And vow'd that if the fiery wings,
Would but descend to single fight,
He'd teach him how to burn his eye,
Or in th' attempt would nobly die.
"The noon day sun; let me remind you,
My angry sir, is right behind you:"
His friend exclaims. "and could not shine
To wound that piercing sight of thine."
"Zounds, but it does," the man replies,
And dims the sight of mind and eyes."
"That shadow," his companion said,
"Is but the shadow of a shade,
A ray of that meridian beam,
Which, striking on the lucid stream,
From thence by mere reflection flies,
And casts its shadow on your eyes.'"
"Shadow or shade, whate'er it be,
An insult I can plainly see
The wight intends to fling at me.
Besides, I pray you, tell me too,
If shine on me, why not on you?"
"On me, and not on you, it would shine,
Were I in your place--you in mine."
"Well, well," replies the angry man,
"Enough you can't see it, yet I can;
And now by all the stellar host,
Whether 'twere shadow, shade, or ghost;
My easy friend, depend upon't,
I'll have revenge for this affront;
And bring to punishment condign,
The author of this glaring shine!"
Now off he walk'd in angry mood,
And left his friend within the wood;
Who as he mus'd, a man of rhyme
Did
Thus upon the time,
"'Tis monstrous hard a single soul,
Should have us under his control:
Who sees like none of all the nation,
A spirit of insinuation,
Of a mere shadow of a shade,
Of a faint ghost of insult made.
Let him out show the airy spirit
And bring the phantom into sight,
Then we will feed his dang'rous passion,
With all the strength of all the nation."

OTHELLO.