A fox, who listen'd all the while, Address'd the monarch with a smile: "My liege, most humbly I make bold, Though truth may not be always told, That this same phantom which you hear, That so alarms your royal ear, Is not a rival of your throne: The voice and fears are all your own." Imaginary terrors scare A timorous soul with real fear; Nay, even the wise and brave are cow'd By apprehensions from the crowd: A frog a lion may disharm, And yet how causeless the alarm!