Fable XXIV The Sheep and the Bramble-Bush
A thick-twisted brake in the time of a storm,
Seem’d kindly to cover a sheep:
So snug, for a while, he lay shelter’d and warm.
It quietly sooth’d him asleep.
The clouds are now scatter’d—the winds are at peace,
The sheep’s to his pasture inclin’d;
But ah! the fell thicket lays hold of his fleece,
His coat is left forfeit behind.
My friend, who the thicket of law never tried,
Consider before you get in;
Tho’ judgment and sentence are pass’d on your side,
By Jove, you’ll be fleec’d to your skin.