The Chace/Book 3
The Argument of the Third Book.
Of King Edgar and his imposing a Tribute of Wolves Heads upon the Kings of Wales: From hence a Transition to Fox-Hunting, which is described in all its Parts. Censure of an over-numerous Pack. Of the several Engines to destroy Foxes, and other Wild Beasts. The Steel-Trap described, and the Manner of using it. Description of the Pitfall for the Lion; and another for the Elephant. The ancient Way of Hunting the Tyger with a Mirror. The Arabian Manner of Hunting the Wild Boar. Description of the Royal Stag-Chace at Windsor Forest. Concludes with an Address to his Majesty, and an Eulogy upon Mercy.
BOOK the Third.
In Albion's Isle when glorious Edgar reign'd,He wisely provident, from her white CliffsLaunch'd half her Forests, and with num'rous FleetsCover'd his wide Domain: There proudly rodeLord of the Deep, the great Prerogative 5Of British Monarchs. Each Invader bold,Dane and Norwegian, at a Distance gaz'd,And disappointed, gnash'd his Teeth in vain.He scour'd the Seas, and to remotest ShoresWith swelling Sails the trembling Corsair fled. 10Rich Commerce flourish'd; and with busy Oars Dash'd the resounding Surge. Nor less at LandHis royal Cares; wise, potent, gracious Prince!His Subjects from their cruel Foes he sav'd,And from rapacious Savages their Flocks. 15Cambria's proud Kings (tho' with Reluctance) paidTheir tributary Wolves; Head after Head,In full Account, 'till the Woods yield no more,And all the rav'nous Race extinct is lost.In fertile Pastures, more securely graz'd 20The social Troops; and soon their large IncreaseWith curling Fleeces whiten'd all the Plains.But yet alas! the wily Fox remain'd,A subtle, pilf'ring Foe, proling aroundIn Midnight Shades, and wakeful to destroy. 25In the full Fold, the poor defenceless Lamb,Seiz'd by his guileful Arts, with sweet warm BloodSupplies a rich Repast. The mournful Ewe,Her dearest Treasure lost, thro' the dun Night Wanders perplex'd, and darkling bleats in vain:While in th'adjacent Bush, poor Philomel,(Her self a Parent once, 'till wanton ChurlsDespoil'd her Nest) joins in her loud Laments,With sweeter Notes, and more melodious Woe.
For these nocturnal Thieves, Huntsman, prepareThy sharpest Vengeance. Oh! how glorious 'tisTo right th' oppress'd, and bring the Felon vileTo just Disgrace! E'er yet the Morning peep,Or Stars retire from the first Blush of Day,With thy far-echoeing Voice alarm thy Pack, 40And rouse thy bold Compeers. Then to the Copse,Thick with entangling Grass, or prickly FurzeWith Silence lead thy many-colour'd Hounds,In all their Beauty's Pride. See! how they rangeDispers'd, how busily this Way and that, 45They cross, examining with curious Nose Each likely Haunt. Hark! on the Drag I hearTheir doubtful Notes, preluding to a CryMore nobly full, and swell'd with ev'ry Mouth.As straggling Armies, at the Trumpet's Voice, 50Press to their Standard; hither all repair,And hurry thro' the Woods; with hasty StepRustling, and full of Hope; now driv'n on HeapsThey push, they strive; while from his Kennel sneaksThe conscious Villain. See! he skulks along, 55Slick at the Shepherd's Cost, and plump with MealsPurloin'd. So thrive the Wicked here below.Tho' high his Brush he bear, tho' tipt with whiteIt gayly shine; yet e're the Sun declin'dRecall the Shades of Night, the pamper'd Rogue 60Shall rue his Fate revers'd; and at his HeelsBehold the just Avenger, swift to seizeHis forfeit Head, and thirsting for his Blood. Heavens! what melodious Strains! how beatour HeartsBig with tumultuous Joy! the loaded Gales 65Breath Harmony; and as the Tempest drivesFrom Wood to Wood, thro' ev'ry dark RecessThe Forest thunders, and the Mountains shake.The Chorus swells; less various, and less sweetThe trilling Notes, when in those very Groves, 70The feather'd Choristers salute the Spring,And ev'ry Bush in Consort joins; or whenThe Master's Hand, in modulated Air,Bids the loud Organ breath, and all the Pow'rsOf Musick in one Instrument combine,An universal Minstrelsy. And nowIn vain each Earth he tries, the Doors are barr'dImpregnable, nor is the Covert safe;He pants for purer Air. Hark! what loud Shouts Re-echo thro' the Groves! he breaks away, 80Shrill Horns proclaim his Flight. Each straggling Hound Strains o'er the Lawn to reach the distant Pack, 'Tis Triumph all and Joy. Now, my brave Youths, Now give a Loose to the clean gen'rous Steed; Flourish the Whip, nor spare the galling Spur; 85But in the Madness of Delight, forget Your Fears, Far o'er the rocky Hills we range, And dangerous our Course; but in the Brave True Courage never fails. In vain the Stream In foaming Eddies whirls; in vain the Ditch 90Wide-gaping threatens Death. The craggy Steep, Where the poor dizzy Shepherd crawls with Care, And clings to ev'ry Twig, gives us no Pain; But down we sweep, as stoops the Falcon bold To pounce his Prey. Then up th' opponent Hill, 95By the swift Motion flung, we mount aloft So Ships in Winter-Seas now sliding sinkAdown the steepy Wave, then toss'd on highRide on the Billows, and defy the Storm.
What Lengths we pass! where will the wand'ring Chace 100Lead us bewilder'd! smooth as Swallows skimThe new-shorn Mead, and far more swift we fly.See my brave Pack; how to the Head they press,Justling in close Array, then more diffuseObliquely wheel, while from their op'ning MouthsThe vollied Thunder breaks. So when the CranesTheir annual Voyage steer, with wanton WingTheir Figure oft they change, and their loud clangFrom Cloud to Cloud rebounds. How far behindThe Hunter-Crew, wide-straggling o'er the Plain!The panting Courser now with trembling NervesBegins to reel; urg'd by the goreing Spur, Makes many a faint Effort: He snorts, he foams,The big round Drops run trickling down his Sides,With Sweat and Blood distain'd. Look back and view 115The strange Confusion of the Vale below,Where sow'r Vexation reigns; see yon poor Jade,In vain th' impatient Rider frets and swears,With galling Spurs harrows his mangled Sides;He can no more: His stiff unpliant Limbs 120Rooted in Earth, unmov'd, and fix'd he stands,For ev'ry cruel Curse returns a Groan,And sobs, and faints, and dies. Who without GriefCan view that pamper'd Steed, his Master's Joy,His Minion, and his daily Care, well cloath'd, 125Well-fed with ev'ry nicer Cate; no Cost,No Labour spar'd; who, when the flying ChaceBroke from the Copse, without a Rival led The num'rous Train: Now a sad SpectacleOf Pride brought low, and humbled Insolence, 130Drove like a pannier'd Ass, and scourg'd along.While these with loosen'd Reins, and dangling Heels,Hang on their reeling Palfreys, that scarce bearTheir Weights; another in the treach'rous BogLies flound'ring half ingulph'd. What biteing Thoughts 135Torment th' abandon'd Crew! old Age lamentsHis Vigour spent: The tall, plump, brawny YouthCurses his cumb'rous Bulk; and envies nowThe short Pygmean Race, he whilom kenn'dWith proud insulting Leer. A chosen few 140Alone the Sport enjoy, nor droop beneathTheir pleasing Toils. Here, Huntsman, from this HeightObserve yon Birds of Prey; if I can judge,'Tis there the Villain lurks; they hover round And claim him as their own. Was I not right? 145See! there he creeps along; his Brush he drags,And sweeps the Mire impure; from his wide JawsHis Tongue unmoisten'd hangs; Symptoms too sureOf sudden Death. Hah! yet he flies, nor yieldsTo black Despair. But one Loose more, and allHis Wiles are vain. Hark! thro' yon Village nowThe rattling Clamour rings. The Barns, the CotsAnd leafless Elms return the joyous Sounds.Thro' ev'ry Homestall, and thro' ev'ry Yard,His midnight Walks, panting, forlorn, he flies; 155Thro' ev'ry Hole he sneaks, thro' ev'ry JakesPlunging he wades besmear'd, and fondly hopesIn a superior Stench to lose his own:But faithful to the Track, th' unerring HoundsWith Peals of echoing Vengeance close pursue. 160And now distress'd, no shelt'ring Covert nearInto the Hen-roost creeps, whose Walls with Gore Distain'd attest his Guilt. There, Villain, thereExpect thy Fate deserv'd. And soon from thenceThe Pack inquisitive, with Clamour loud, 165Drag out their trembling Prize; and on his BloodWith greedy Transport feast. In bolder NotesEach sounding Horn proclaims the Felon dead:And all th' assembled Village shouts for Joy.The Farmer who beholds his mortal Foe 170Stretch'd at his Feet, applauds the glorious Deed,And grateful calls us to a short Repast:In the full Glass the liquid Amber smiles,Our native Product. And his good old MateWith choicest Viands heaps the lib'ral Board,To crown our Triumphs, and reward our Toils.
Here must th' instructive Muse (but with Respect)Censure that num'rous Pack, that Croud of State, With which the vain Profusion of the GreatCovers the Lawn, and shakes the trembling Copse.Pompous Incumbrance! A MagnificenceUseless, vexatious! For the wily Fox,Safe in th' increasing Number of his Foes,Kens well the great Advantage: Slinks behindAnd slyly creeps thro' the same beaten Track, 185And hunts them Step by Step; then views escap'dWith inward Extasy, the panting ThrongIn their own Footsteps puzzled, soil'd, and lost.So when proud Eastern Kings, summon to ArmsTheir gaudy Legions, from far distant Climes 190They flock in Crouds, unpeopling half a World:But when the Day of Battle calls them forthTo charge the well-train'd Foe, a Band compact.Of chosen Vet'ranes; they press blindly on,In Heaps confus'd, by their own Weapons fall, 195A smoking Carnage scatter'd o'er the Plain.
Nor Hounds alone this noxious Brood destroy: The plunder'd Warrener full many a Wile Devises to entrap his greedy Foe, Fat with nocturnal Spoils. At Close of Day, 200With Silence drags his Trail; then from the Ground Pares thin the close-graz'd Turf, there with nice Hand Covers the latent Death, with curious Springs Prepar'd to fly at once, whene'er the Tread Of Man or Beast, unwarily shall press 205The yielding Surface. By th' indented Steel With Gripe tenacious held, the Felon grins, And struggles, but in vain: Yet oft tis known, When ev'ry Art has fail'd, the captive Fox Has shar'd the wounded Joint, and with a Limb 210Compounded for his Life. But if perchance In the deep Pitfall plung'd, there's no Escape; But unrepriev'd he dies, and bleach'd in AirThe Jest of Clowns, his reeking Carcass hangs.
Of these are various Kinds; not ev'n the King 215Of Brutes evades this deep devouring Grave:But by the wily African betray'd,Heedless of Fate, within its gaping JawsExpires indignant. When the orient BeamWith Blushes paints the Dawn; and all the Race 220Carnivorous, with Blood full-gorg'd, retireInto their darksom Cells, there satiate snoreO'er dripping Offals, and the mangled LimbsOf Men and Beasts; the painful ForresterClimbs the high Hills, whose proud aspiring Tops,With the tall Cedar crown'd, and taper Fir,Assail the Clouds. There 'mong the craggy Rocks,And Thickets intricate, trembling he viewsHis Footsteps in the Sand; the dismal Road And Avenue to Death. Hither he calls 230His watchful Bands; and low into the GroundA Pit they sink, full many a Fathom deep.Then in the midst a Column high is rear'd,The Butt of some fair Tree; upon whose TopA Lamb is plac'd, just ravish'd from his Dam. 235And next a Wall they build, with Stones and EarthEncircling round, and hiding from all ViewThe dreadful Precipice. Now when the ShadesOf Night hang low'ring o'er the Mountain's Brow;And Hunger keen, and pungent Thirst of Blood, 240Rouze up the slothful Beast, he shakes his Sides,Slow-rising from his Lair, and stretches wideHis rav'nous Paws, with recent Gore distain'd.The Forests tremble, as he roars aloud,Impatient to destroy. O'erjoy'd he hears 245The bleating Innocent, that claims in vainThe Shepherd's Care, and seeks with piteous Moan The foodful Teat; himself, alas! design'dAnother's Meal. For now the greedy BruteWinds him from far; and leaping o'er the Mound 250To seize his trembling Prey, headlong is plung'dInto the deep Abyss. Prostrate he liesAstunn'd and impotent. Ah! what availThine Eye-balls flashing Fire, thy Length of Tail,That lashes thy broad Sides, thy Jaws besmear'd 255With Blood and Offals crude, thy shaggy MainThe Terror of the Woods, thy stately Port,And Bulk enormous, since by StratagemThy Strength is foil'd? Unequal is the Strife,When sov'reign Reason combats brutal Rage. 260
On distant Ethiopia's Sun-burnt Coasts,The black Inhabitants a Pitfall frame,But of a diff'rent Kind, and diff'rent Use.With slender Poles the wide capacious Mouth, And Hurdles slight, they close; o'er these is spreadA Floor of verdant Turf, with all its Flow'rsSmiling delusive, and from strictest SearchConcealing the deep Grave, that yawns below.Then Boughs of Trees they cut, with tempting FruitOf various Kinds surcharg'd; the downy Peach, 270The clust'ring Vine, and of bright golden RindThe fragrant Orange. Soon as Ev'ning greyAdvances slow, besprinkling all aroundWith kind refreshing Dews the thirsty Glebe,The stately Elephant from the close Shade 275With Step majestick strides, eager to tasteThe cooler Breeze, that from the Sea-beat ShoreDelightful breaths, or in the limpid StreamTo lave his panting Sides; joyous he scentsThe rich Repast, unweeting of the Death 280That lurks within. And soon he sporting breaks The brittle Boughs, and greedily devoursThe Fruit delicious. Ah! too dearly bought;The Price is Life. For now the treach'rous TurfTrembling gives way; and the unweildy Beast 285Self-sinking, drops into the dark Profound.So when dilated Vapours, struggling heaveTh' incumbent Earth; if Chance the cavern'd Ground,Shrinking subside, and the thin Surface yield,Down sinks at once the pond'rous Dome, ingulph'dWith all its Tow'rs. Subtle, delusive Man!How various are thy Wiles! artful to killThy savage Foes, a dull unthinking Race!Fierce from his Lair, springs forth the speckled Pard,Thirsting for Blood, and eager to destroy; 295The Huntsman flies, but to his Flight aloneConfides not: At convenient Distance fix'd,A polish'd Mirrour, stops in full Career The furious Brute: He there his Image views;Spots against Spots with Rage improving glow; 300Another Pard his bristly Whiskers curls,Grins as he grins, fierce-menacing, and wideDistends his op'ning Paws; himself againstHimself opposed, and with dread Vengeance arm'd.The Huntsman now secure, with fatal Aim 305Directs the pointed Spear, by which transfix'dHe dies, and with him dies the rival Shade.Thus Man innum'rous Engines forms, t'assailThe Savage kind: But most the docile Horse,Swift and confederate with Man, annoys 310His Brethren of the Plains; without whose AidThe Hunters Arts were vain, unskill'd to wageWith the more active Brutes, an equal War.But born by him, without the well-train'd Pack,Man dares his Foe, on Wings of Winds secure. 315
Him the fierce Arab mounts, and with his TroopOf bold Compeers, ranges the Deserts wild.Where by the Magnet's Aid, the TravellerSteers his untrodden Course; yet oft on LandIs wreck'd, in the high-rolling Waves of Sand 320Immerst and lost. While these intrepid Bands,Safe in their Horse's Speed, out-fly the Storm,And scouring round, make Men and Beasts their Prey.The grisly Boar is singled from his Herd,As large as that in Erimanthian Woods, 325A Match for Hercules. Round him they flyIn Circles wide; and each in passing sendsHis feather'd Death into his brawny Sides.But perillous th' Attempt. For if the SteedHaply too near Approach; or the loose Earth 330His Footing fail; the watchful angry Beast Th' Advantage spies; and at one sidelong GlanceRips up his Groin. Wounded, he rears aloft,And plunging, from his Back the Rider hurlsPrecipitant; then bleeding spurns the Ground,And drags his reeking Entrails o'er the Plain.Mean while the surly Monster trots along,But with unequal Speed; for still they wound,Swift-wheeling in the spacious Ring. A WoodOf Darts upon his Back he bears; adown 340His tortur'd Sides, the crimson Torrents rollFrom many a gaping Font. And now at lastStagg'ring he falls, in Blood and Foam expires.
But whither roves my devious Muse, intentOn antique Tales? While yet the royal Stag 345Unsung remains. Tread with respectful AweWindsor's green Glades; where Denham, tuneful Bard,Charm'd once the list'ning Dryads, with his Song Sublimely sweet. O! grant me, sacred Shade,To glean submiss what thy full Sickle leaves. 350
The Morning Sun that gilds with trembling RaysWindsor's high Tow'rs, beholds the courtly TrainMount for the Chace, nor views in all his CourseA Scene so gay: heroick, noble Youths,In Arts, and Arms renown'd, and lovely NymphsThe fairest of this Isle, where Beauty dwellsDelighted, and deserts her Paphian GroveFor our more favour'd Shades: In proud ParadeThese shine magnificent, and press aroundThe Royal happy Pair. Great in themselves, 360They simile superior; of external ShowRegardless, while their inbred Virtues giveA Lustre to their Pow'r, and grace their CourtWith real Splendors, far above the PompOf eastern Kings, in all their tinsel Pride. 365 Like Troops of Amazons, the female BandPrance round their Cars, not in refulgent ArmsAs those of old; unskill'd to weild the Sword,Or bend the Bow, these kill with surer Aim.The royal Offspring, fairest of the Fair, 370Lead on the splendid Train. Anna more brightThan Summer Suns, or as the Lightning keen,With irresistible Effulgence arm'd,Fires ev'ry Heart. He must be more than Man,Who unconcern'd can bear the piercing Ray. 375Amelia, milder than the blushing Dawn,With sweet engaging Air, but equal Pow'rInsensibly subdues, and in soft ChainsHer willing Captives leads. Illustrious MaidsEver triumphant! whose victorious Charms, 380Without the needless Aid of high DescentHad aw'd Mankind, and taught the World's great Lords To bow and sue for Grace. But who is heFresh as a Rose-bud newly blown, and fairAs op'ning Lillies; on whom ev'ry Eye 385With Joy, and Admiration dwells? See, see,He reins his docile Barb with manly Grace.Is it Adonis for the Chace array'd?Or Britain's second Hope? Hail, blooming Youth!May all your Virtues with your Years improve, 390'Till in consummate Worth, you shine the PrideOf these our Days, and to succeeding TimesA bright Example. As his Guard of MutesOn the great Sultan wait, with Eyes dejectAnd fix'd on Earth, no Voice, no Sound is heard 395Within the wide Serail, but all is hush'd,And awful Silence reigns; thus stand the PackMute and unmov'd, and cow'ring low to Earth,While pass the glitt'ring Court, and royal Pair:So disciplin'd those Hounds, and so reserv'd, 400 Whose Honour 'tis to glad the Hearts of Kings.But soon the winding Horn, and Huntsman's Voice,Let loose the gen'ral Chorus; far aroundJoy spreads its Wings, and the gay Morning smiles.
Unharbour'd now the royal Stag forsakes 405His wonted Lair; he shakes his dappled Sides,And tosses high his beamy Head, the CopseBeneath his Antlers bends. What doubling ShiftsHe tries! not more the wily Hare; in theseWou'd still persist, did not the full-mouth'd PackWith dreadful Consort thunder in his Rear.The Woods reply, the Hunter's chearing ShoutsFloat thro' the Glades, and the wide Forest rings.How merrily they chant! their Nostrils deepInhale the grateful Steam. Such is the Cry, 415And such th' harmonious Din, the Soldier deemsThe Battle kindling, and the Statesman grave Forgets his weighty Cares; each Age, each SexIn the wild Transport joins; luxuriant Joy,And Pleasure in Excess, sparkling exult 420On ev'ry Brow, and revel unrestrain'd.How happy art thou Man, when thou'rt no moreThy self! when all the Pangs that grind thy Soul,In Rapture and in sweet Oblivion lost,Yield a short Interval, and Ease from Pain! 425
See the swift Courser strains, his shining HoofsSecurely beat the solid Ground. Who nowThe dang'rous Pitfall fears, with tangling HeathHigh-overgrown? Or who the quiv'ring BogSoft-yielding to the Step? All now is plain, 430Plain as the Strand Sea-lav'd, that stretches farBeneath the rocky Shore. Glades crossing GladesThe Forest opens to our wond'ring View:Such was the King's Command. Let Tyrants fierce Lay waste the World; his the more glorious Part 435To check their Pride; and when the brazen VoiceOf War is hush'd, (as erst victorious Rome)T'employ his station'd Legions in the WorksOf Peace; to smooth the rugged Wilderness.To drain the stagnate Fen, to raise the Slope 440Depending Road, and to make gay the FaceOf Nature, with th' Embellishments of Art.
How melts my beating Heart! as I beholdEach lovely Nymph our Island's Boast and Pride,Push on the gen'rous Steed, that strokes along 445O'er rough, o'er smooth, nor heeds the steepy Hill,Nor faulters in th' extended Vale below;Their Garments loosely waving in the Wind,And all the Flush of Beauty in their Cheeks!While at their Sides their pensive Lovers wait, 450Direct their dubious Course; now chill'd with Fear Solicitous, and now with Love inflam'd.O! grant, indulgent Heav'n, no rising StormMay darken with black Wings, this glorious Scene!Shou'd some malignant Pow'r thus damp our Joys,Vain were the gloomy Cave, such as of oldBetray'd to lawless Love the Tyrian Queen.For Britain's virtuous Nymphs are chaste as fair,Spotless, unblam'd, with equal Triumph reignIn the Dun Gloom, as in the Blaze of Day. 460
Now the blown Stag, thro' Woods, Bogs, Roads, and StreamsHas measur'd half the Forest; but alass!He flies in vain, he flies not from his Fears.Tho' far he cast the ling'ring Pack behind,His haggard Fancy still with Horror views 465The fell Destroyer; still the fatal CryInsults his Ears, and wounds his trembling Heart. So the poor Fury-haunted Wretch (his HandsIn guiltless Blood distain'd) still seems to hearThe dying Shrieks; and the pale threat'ning GhostMoves as he moves, and as he flies, pursues.See here his Slot; up yon green Hill he climbs,Pants on its Brow awhile, sadly looks backOn his Pursuers, cov'ring all the Plain;But wrung with Anguish, bears not long the SightShoots down the Steep, and sweats along the Vale:There mingles with the Herd, where once he reign'dProud Monarch of the Groves, whose clashing BeamHis Rivals aw'd, and whose exalted Pow'rWas still rewarded with successful Love. 480But the base Herd, have learn'd the Ways of Men,Averse they fly, or with rebellious Aim Chace him from thence: needless their impious Deed,The Huntsman knows him by a thousand Marks,Black, and Imbost; nor are his Hounds deceiv'd;Too well distinguish these, and never leaveTheir once devoted Foe; familiar growsHis Scent, and strong their Appetite to kill.Again he flies, and with redoubled SpeedSkims o'er the Lawn; still the tenacious Crew 490Hang on the Track, aloud demand their PreyAnd push him many a League. If haply thenToo far escap'd, and the gay courtly TrainBehind are cast, the Huntsman's clanging WhipStops full their bold Career; passive they stand, 495Unmov'd, an humble, an obsequious Crowd,As if by stern Medusa gaz'd to Stones.So at their Gen'ral's Voice whole Armies haltIn full Pursuit, and check their Thirst of Blood. Soon at the King's Command, like hasty Streams 500Damm'd up a while, they foam, and pour alongWith fresh recruited Might. The Stag, who hop'dHis Foes were lost, now once more hears astunn'dThe dreadful Din; he shivers ev'ry Limb,He starts, he bounds; each Bush presents a Foe. 505Press'd by the fresh Relay, no Pause allow'd,Breathless, and faint, he faulters in his Pace,And lifts his weary Limbs with Pain, that scarceSustain their Load; he pants, he sobs appall'd;Drops down his heavy Head to Earth, beneath 510His cumb'rous Beams oppress'd. But if perchanceSome prying Eye surprize him; soon he rearsErect his tow'ring Front, bounds o'er the LawnWith ill-dissembled Vigour, to amuseThe knowing Forester; who inly smiles 515At his weak Shifts, and unavailing Frauds.So midnight Tapers waste their last Remains, Shine forth a while, and as they blaze expire.From Wood to Wood redoubling Thunders roll,And bellow thro' the Vales; the moving Storm 520Thickens amain, and loud triumphant Shouts,And Horns shrill-warbling in each Glade, preludeTo his approaching Fate. And now in viewWith hobbling Gate, and high, exerts amaz'dWhat Strength is left: To the last Dregs of LifeReduc'd, his Spirits fail, on ev'ry SideHemm'd in, besieg'd; not the least Op'ning leftTo gleaming Hope, th' Unhappy's last Reserve.Where shall he turn? Or whither fly? DespairGives Courage to the Weak. Resolv'd to dye, 530He fears no more, but rushes on his Foes,And deals his Deaths around; beneath his FeetThese grovelling lye, those by his Antlers gor'dDefile th' ensanguin'd Plain. Ah! see distress'dHe stands at Bay against yon knotty Trunk, 535 That covers well his Rear, his Front presentsAn Host of Foes. O! shun, ye noble Train,The rude Encounter, and believe your LivesYour Country's Due alone. As now aloofThey wing around, he finds his Soul uprais'd, 540To dare some great Exploit; he charges homeUpon the broken Pack, that on each SideFly diverse; then as o'er the Turf he strains,He vents the cooling Stream, and up the BreezeUrges his Course with eager Violence: 544Then takes the Soil, and plunges in the FloodPrecipitant; down the Mid-Stream he waftsAlong, 'till (like a Ship distress'd, that runsInto some winding Creek) close to the VergeOf a small Island, for his weary Feet 550Sure Anchorage he finds, there skulks immers'd.His Nose alone above the Wave, draws inThe vital Air; all else beneath the Flood Conceal'd, and lost, deceives each prying EyeOf Man or Brute. In vain the crowding Pack 555Draw on the Margin of the Stream, or cutThe liquid Wave with oary Feet, that moveIn equal Time. The gliding Waters leaveNo Trace behind, and his contracted PoresBut sparingly perspire: The Huntsman strains 560His lab'ring Lungs, and puffs his Cheeks in vain :At length a Blood-hound bold, studious to kill,And exquisite of Sense, winds him from far;Headlong he leaps into the Flood, his MouthLoud-op'ning spends amain, and his wide ThroatSwells ev'ry Note with Joy; then fearless divesBeneath the Wave, hangs on his Hanch, and woundsTh' unhappy Brute, that flounders in the Stream,Sorely distress'd, and struggling strives to mountThe steepy Shore. Haply once more escap'd; 570Again he stands at Bay, amid the Groves Of Willows, bending low their downy Heads.Outrageous Transport fires the greedy Pack;These swim the Deep, and those crawl up with PainThe slipp'ry Bank, while others on firm Land 575Engage; the Stag repells each bold Assault,Maintains his Post, and Wounds for Wounds returns.As when some wily Corsair boards a ShipFull-freighted, or from Africk's golden Coasts,Or India's wealthy Strand, his bloody Crew 580Upon her Deck he flings; these in the DeepDrop short, and swim to reach her steepy Sides,And clinging climb aloft; while those on BoardUrge on the Work of Fate; the Master bold,Press'd to his last Retreat, bravely resolves 585To sink his Wealth beneath the whelming Wave,His Wealth, his Foes, nor unreveng'd to dye.So fares it with the Stag: So he resolves To plunge at once into the Flood below,Himself, his Foes in one deep Gulph immers'd. 590E'er yet he executes this dire Intent,In wild Disorder once more views the Light;Beneath a Weight of Woe, he groans distress'd:The Tears run trickling down his hairy Cheeks;He weeps, nor weeps in vain. The King beholdsHis wretched Plight, and Tenderness innateMoves his great Soul. Soon at his high CommandRebuk'd, the disappointed, hungry PackRetire submiss, and grumbling quit their Prey.
Great Prince! from thee, what may thy Subjects hope; 600So kind, and so beneficent to Brutes?O Mercy, heav'nly born! Sweet Attribute!Thou great, thou best Prerogative of Pow'r!Justice may guard the Throne, but join'd with thee, On Rocks of Adamant it stands secure, 605And braves the Storm beneath; soon as thy SmilesGild the rough Deep, the foaming Waves subside,And all the noisy Tumult sinks in Peace.