The arch-felon* was of old, who by the tail Drew back his lowing prize: in vain his wiles, In vain the shelter of the covering rock, In vain the sooty cloud, and ruddy flames That issued from his mouth; for soon he paid His forfeit life: a debt how justly due To wrong'd Alcides, and avenging Heaven! Veil'd in the shades of night they ford the stream, Then prowling far and near, whate'er they seize Becomes their prey: nor flocks nor herds are safe, Nor stalls protect the steer, nor strong-barr'd doors Secure the favorite horse. Soon as the morn Reveals his wrongs, with ghastly visage wan The plunder'd owner stands, and from his lips A thousand thronging curses burst their way: He calls his stout allies, and in a line
His faithful hound he leads, then with a voice That utters loud his rage, attentive cheers: Soon the sagacious brute, his curling tail Flourish'd in air, low bending plies around His busy nose, the steaming vapor snuffs Inquisitive, nor leaves one turf untried, Till, conscious of the recent stains, his heart Beats quick; his snuffling nose, his active tail, Attest his joy; then with deep opening mouth, That makes the welkin tremble, he proclaims Th' audacious felon; foot by foot he marks His winding way, while all the listening crowd Applaud his reasonings. O'er the watery ford, Dry sandy heaths, and stony barren hills, O'er beaten paths, with men and beasts distain'd, Unerring he pursues; till at the cot Arriv'd, and seizing by his guilty throat The caitiff vile, redeems the captive prey: So exquisitely delicate his sense!
Should some more curious sportsman here inquire Whence this sagacity, this wondrous power Of tracing, step by step, or man or brute? What guide invisible points out their way O'er the dank marsh, bleak hill, and sandy plain? The courteous Muse shall the dark cause reveal. The blood that from the heart incessant rolls In many a crimson tide, then here and there In smaller rills disparted, as it flows Propell'd, the serous particles evade Through th' open pores, and with the ambient air Entangling mix. As fuming vapors rise, And hang upon the gently purling brook, There by th' incumbent atmosphere compress'd: The panting Chase grows warmer as he flies, And through the net-work of the skin perspires; Leaves a long-streaming trail behind, which by The cooler air condens'd, remains, unless By some rude storm dispers'd, or rarefied By the meridian Sun's intenser heat. To every shrub the warm effluvia cling, Hang on the grass, impregnate earth and skies. With nostrils opening wide, o'er hill, o'er dale The vigorous hounds pursue, with Inhale the grateful steam, quick pleasures sting every breath Their tingling nerves, while they their thanks repay, And in triumphant melody confess The titillating joy. Thus on the air Depend the hunter's hopes. When ruddy streaks At eve forebode a blustering stormy day, Or lowering clouds blacken the mountain's brow, When nipping frosts, and the keen biting blasts Of the dry parching east, menace the trees
* Cacus, VIRG. n. lib. viii.
With tender blossoms teeming, kindly spare Thy sleeping pack, in their warm beds of straw Low-sinking at their ease; listless they shrink Into some dark recess, nor hear thy voice Though oft invok'd; or haply if thy call
Rouse up the slumbering tribe, with heavy eyes Inverted; high on their bent backs erect Glaz'd, lifeless, dull, downward they drop their tails Of ranker weeds, each stomach-healing plant Their pointed bristles stare, or 'mong the tufts Curious they crop, sick, spiritless, forlorn. These inauspicious days, on other cares Employ thy precious hours; th' improving friend With open arms embrace, and from his lips Glean science, season'd with good-natur'd wit. But if the inclement skies and angry Jove Forbid the pleasing intercourse, thy books Invite thy ready hand, each sacred page Rich with the wise remarks of heroes old. Converse familiar with th' illustrious dead; With great examples of old Greece or Rome, Enlarge thy free-born heart, and bless kind Heaven, That Britain yet enjoys dear Liberty, That balm of life, that sweetest blessing, cheap Though purchas'd with our blood. Well-bred, polite,
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Credit thy calling. See! how mean, how low, The bookless sauntering youth, proud of the skut That dignifies his cap, his flourish'd belt, And rusty couples gingling by his side.
Be thou of other mould; and know that such Transporting pleasures were by Heaven ordain'd Wisdom's relief, and Virtue's great reward.
Of the power of instinct in brutes. Two remarkable instances in the hunting of the roe-buck, and in the hare going to seat in the morning. Of the variety of seats or forms of the hare, according to the change of the season, weather, or wind. Description of the hare-hunting in all its parts, interspersed with rules to be observed by those who follow that chase. Transition to the Asiatic way of hunting, particularly the magnificent manner of the Great Mogul, and other Tartarian princes, taken from Monsieur Bernier, and the history of Gengiscan the Great. Concludes with a short reproof of tyrants and oppressors of mankind.
NOR will it less delight th' attentive sage T'observe that Instinct, which unerring guides The brutal race, which mimics reason's lore, [swift And oft transcends: Heaven-taught, the roe-buck Loiters at ease before the driving pack And mocks their vain pursuit; nor far he flies, But checks his ardor, till the steaming scent That freshens on the blade provokes their rage. Soon flag fatigued; strain'd to excess each nerve, Urg'd to their speed, his weak deluded foes Fach slacken'd sinew fails; they pant, they foam, Then o'er the lawn he bounds, o'er the high hills Stretches secure, and leaves the scatter'd crowd To puzzle in the distant vale below.
"Tis Instinct that directs the jealous hare To choose her soft abode. With step revers'd
She forms the doubling maze; then, ere the morn Peeps through the clouds, leaps to her close recess. As wandering shepherds on th' Arabian plains No settled residence observe, but shift Their moving camp, now, on some cooler hill With cedars crown'd, court the refreshing breeze; And then, below, where trickling streams distil From some penurious source, their thirst allay, And feed their fainting flocks: so the wise hares Oft quit their seats, lest some more curious eye Should mark their haunts, and by dark treacherous wiles
Plot their destruction; or perchance in hopes Of plenteous forage, near the ranker mead, Or matted blade, wary and close they sit. When spring shines forth, season of love and joy, In the moist marsh, 'mong beds of rushes hid, They cool their boiling blood. When summer suns Bake the cleft earth, to thick wide-waving fields Of corn full-grown, they lead their helpless young: But when autumnal torrents and fierce rains Deluge the vale, in the dry crumbling bank Their forms they delve, and cautiously avoid The dripping covert: yet when winter's cold Their limbs benumbs, thither with speed return'd In the long grass they skulk, or shrinking creep Among the wither'd leaves, thus changing still, As fancy prompts them, or as food invites. But every season carefully observ'd, Th' inconstant winds, the fickle element, The wise experienc'd huntsman soon may find His subtle, various game, nor waste in vain His tedious hours, till his impatient hounds, With disappointment vex'd, each springing lark Babbling pursue, far scatter'd o'er the fields.
Now golden Autumn from her open lap Her fragrant bounties showers; the fields are shorn; Inwardly smiling, the proud farmer views The rising pyramids that grace his yard,
And counts his large increase; his barns are stor'd, And groaning staddles bend beneath their load. All now is free as air, and the gay pack In the rough bristly stubbles range unblam'd; No widow's tears o'erflow, no secret curse Swells in the farmer's breast, which his pale lips Trembling conceal, by his fierce landlord aw'd: But courteous now he levels every fence, Joins in the common cry, and halloos loud, Charm'd with the rattling thunder of the field. Oh bear me, some kind power invisible!
To that extended lawn, where the gay court View the swift racers, stretching to the goal; Games more renown'd, and a far nobler train, Than proud Elean fields could boast of old. Oh! were a Theban lyre not wanting here, And Pindar's voice, to do their merit right! Or to those spacious plains, where the strain'd eye, In the wide prospect lost, beholds at last Sarum's proud spire, that o'er the hills ascends, And pierces through the clouds. Or to thy downs, Fair Cotswold, where the well-breath'd beagle climbs With matchless speed thy green aspiring brow, And leaves the lagging multitude behind.
Hail, gentle Dawn! mild blushing goddess, hail! Rejoic'd I see thy purple mantle spread O'er half the skies, gems pave thy radiant way, And orient pearls from every shrub depend. Farewell, Cleora; here deep sunk in down Slumber secure, with happy dreams amus'd, Till grateful steams shall tempt thee to receive
Thy early meal, or thy officious maids, The toilet plac'd, shall urge thee to perform Th' important work. Me other joys invite. The horn sonorous calls, the pack awak'd Their matins chant, nor brook my long delay. My courser hears their voice; see there, with ears And tail erect, neighing he paws the ground; Fierce rapture kindles in his reddening eyes, And boils in every vein. As captive boys Cow'd by the ruling rod and haughty frowns Of pedagogues severe, from their hard tasks If once dismiss'd, no limits can contain The tumult rais'd within their little breasts, But give a loose to all their frolic play: So from their kennel rush the joyous pack; A thousand wanton gaieties express Their inward ecstacy, their pleasing sport Once more indulg'd, and liberty restor'd. The rising Sun, that o'er th' horizon peeps, As many colors from their glossy skins Beaming reflects, as paint the various bow When April showers descend. Delightful scene! Where all around is gay, men, horses, dogs, And in each smiling countenance appears Fresh blooming health, and universal joy.
Huntsman, lead on! behind the clustering pack Submiss attend, hear with respect thy whip Loud-clanging, and thy harsher voice obey: Spare not the straggling cur that wildly roves; But let thy brisk assistant on his back Imprint thy just resentments; let each lash Bite to the quick, till howling he return, And whining creep amid the trembling crowd.
Here on this verdant spot, where Nature kind With double blessings crowns the farmer's hopes; Where flowers autumnal spring, and the rank mead Affords the wandering hares a rich repast; Throw off thy ready pack. See, where they spread, And range around, and dash the glittering dew. If some staunch hound, with his authentic voice, Avow the recent trail, the justling tribe Attend his call, then with one mutual cry The welcome news confirm, and echoing hills Repeat the pleasing tale. See how they thread The brakes, and up yon furrow drive along! But quick they back recoil, and wisely check Their eager haste; then o'er the fallow'd ground How leisurely they work, and many a pause Th' harmonious concert breaks; till more assur'd With joy redoubled the low valleys ring. What artful labyrinths perplex their way! Ah! there she lies; how close! she pants, she doubts If now she lives; she trembles as she sits, With horror seiz'd. The wither'd grass that clings Around her head, of the same russet hue, Almost deceiv'd my sight, had not her eyes With life full-beaming her vain wiles betray'd. At distance draw thy pack, let all be hush'd, No clamor loud, no frantic joy be heard, Lest the wild hound run gadding o'er the plain Untractable, nor hear thy chiding voice. Now gently put her off; see how direct To her known mew she flies! Here, huntsman, bring (But without hurry) all thy jolly hounds, And calmly lay them in. How low they stoop, And seem to plow the ground! then all at once With greedy nostrils snuff the fuming steam That glads their fluttering hearts. As winds let loose From the dark caverns of the blustering god, They burst away, and sween the dewy lawn.
Hope gives them wings while she's spurr'd on by fear.
The welkin rings, men, dogs, hills, rocks, and woods In the full concert join. Now, my brave youths, Stripp'd for the chase, give all your souls to joy! See how their coursers, than the mountain roe More fleet, the verdant carpet skim, thick clouds Snorting they breathe, their shining hoofs scarce print
The grass unbruis'd; with emulation fir'd They strain to lead the field, top the barr'd gate, O'er the deep ditch exulting bound, and brush The thorny-twining hedge: the riders bend O'er their arch'd necks; with steady hands, by turns Indulge their speed, or moderate their rage. Where are their sorrows, disappointments, wrongs, Vexations, sickness, cares? All, all are gone, And with the panting winds lag far behind. Huntsman! her gait observe; if in wide rings She wheel her mazy way, in the same round Persisting still, she'll foil the beaten track. But if she fly, and with the favoring wind Urge her bold course; less intricate thy task: Push on thy pack. Like some poor exil'd wretch, The frighted Chase leaves her late dear abodes, O'er plains remote she stretches far away, Ah! never to return! For greedy Death Hovering exults, secure to seize his prey.
And each clean courser's speed. We scour along In pleasing hurry and confusion tost; Oblivion to be wish'd. The patient pack Hang on the scent unwearied, up they climb, And ardent we pursue; our laboring steeds We press, we gore; till once the summit gain'd, Painfully panting, there we breathe awhile; Then, like a foaming torrent, pouring down Precipitant, we smoke along the vale. Happy the man who with unrivall'd speed Can pass his fellows, and with pleasure view The struggling pack; how in the rapid course Alternate they preside, and jostling push To guide the dubious scent; how giddy youth Oft babbling errs, by wiser age reprov'd; How, niggard of his strength, the wise old hound Hangs in the rear, till some important point Rouse all his diligence, or till the chase Sinking he finds: then to the head he springs With thirst of glory fir'd, and wins the prize. Huntsman, take heed; they stop in full career. Yon crowding flocks, that at a distance gaze, Have haply foil'd the turf. See! that old hound, How busily he works, but dares not trust His doubtful sense; draw yet a wider ring. Hark! now again the chorus fills. As bells Sallied awhile, at once their peal renew, And high in air the tuneful thunder rolls.
Hark! from yon covert, where those towering oaks See, how they toss, with animated rage Above the humble copse aspiring rise,
What glorious triumphs burst in every gale Upon our ravish'd ears! The hunters shout,
The clanging horns swell their sweet-winding notes, The pack wide opening load the trembling air With various melody; from tree to tree The propagated cry redoubling bounds, And winged zephyrs waft the floating joy Through all the regions near: afflictive birch No more the school-boy dreads; his prison broke, Scampering he flies, nor heeds his master's call; The weary traveller forgets his road,
And climbs th' adjacent hill; the plowman leaves Th' unfinish'd furrow; nor his bleating flocks Are now the shepherd's joy! men, boys, and girls Desert th' unpeopled village; and wild crowds Spread o'er the plain, by the sweet frenzy seiz'd. Look, how she pants! and o'er yon opening glade Slips glancing by! while, at the further end, The puzzling pack unravel wile by wile, Maze within maze. The covert's utmost bound Slily she skirts; behind them cautious creeps; And in that very track, so lately stain'd By all the steaming crowd, seems to pursue The foe she flies. Let cavillers deny
That brutes have reason; sure 'tis something more, "Tis Heaven directs, and stratagems inspires Beyond the short extent of human thought. But hold-I see her from the covert break; Sad on yon little eminence she sits; Intent she listens with one ear erect, Pondering, and doubtful what new course to take, And how t' escape the fierce blood-thirsty crew, That still urge on, and still in volleys loud Insult her woes, and mock her sore distress. As now in louder peals the loaded winds Bring on the gathering storm, her fears prevail, And o'er the plain, and o'er the mountain's ridge, Away she flies; nor ships with wind and tide, And all their canvas wings, scud half so fast. Once more, ye jovial train, your courage try,
Recovering all they lost!-That eager haste Some doubling wile foreshows.-Ah! yet once more They're check'd,-hold back with speed-on either
They flourish round-ev'n yet persist-"Tis right, Away they spring; the rustling stubbles bend Beneath the driving storm. Now the poor Chase Begins to flag, to her last shifts reduc'd. From brake to brake she flies, and visits all Her well-known haunts, where once she rang'd
With love and plenty blest. See! there she goes, She reels along, and by her gait betrays
Her inward weakness. See, how black she looks! The sweat, that clogs th' obstructed pores, scarce leaves
A languid scent. See, see, she flies! each eager hound exerts And now in open view His utmost speed, and stretches every nerve. How quick she turns! their gaping jaws eludes, And yet a moment lives; till, round inclos'd By all the greedy pack, with infant screams She yields her breath, and there reluctant dies. So when the furious Bacchanals assail'd Threïcian Orpheus, poor ill-fated bard! Loud was the cry; hills, woods, and Hebrus' banks, Return'd their clamorous rage; distress'd he flies, Shifting from place to place, but flies in vain; For eager they pursue, till panting, faint, By noisy multitudes o'erpower'd, he siuks To the relentless crowd a bleeding prey.
The huntsman now, a deep incision made, Shakes out with hands impure, and dashes down Her reeking entrails and yet quivering heart. These claim the pack, the bloody perquisite For all their toils. Stretch'd on the ground she lies A mangled corse; in her dim glaring eyes Cold Death exults, and stiffens every limb. Aw'd by the threatening whip, the furious hounds Around her bay; or at their master's foot, Each happy favorite courts his kind applause.
With humble adulation cowering low.
All now is joy. With cheeks full-blown they wind Her solemn dirge, while the loud-opening pack The concert swell, and hills and dales return The sadly-pleasing sounds. Thus the poor hare, A puny, dastard animal, but vers'd
In subtle wiles, diverts the youthful train. But if thy proud, aspiring soul disdains So mean a prey, delighted with the pomp, Magnificence, and grandeur of the chase; Hear what the Muse from faithful records sings. Why on the banks of Gemna, Indian stream, Line within line, rise the pavilions proud, Their silken streamers waving in the wind? Why neighs the warrior horse? From tent to tent, Why press in crowds the buzzing multitude? Why shines the polish'd helm, and pointed lance, This way and that far-beaming o'er the plain? Nor Visapour nor Golconda rebel;
Nor the great Sophy, with his numerous host, Lays waste the provinces; nor glory fires To rob and to destroy, beneath the name And specious guise of war. Calls Aurengzebe to arms.
A nobler cause No cities sack'd,
No mother's tears, no helpless orphan's cries, No violated leagues, with sharp remorse Shall sting the conscious victor: but mankind Shall hail him good and just. For 'tis on beasts He draws his vengeful sword! on beasts of prey Full-fed with human gore. See, see, he comes! Imperial Delhi, opening wide her gates, Pours out her thronging legions, bright in arms, Before them sound of war. pomp And all the Clarions and trumpets, breathing martial airs, And bold defiance. High upon his throne, Borne on the back of his proud elephant, Sits the great chief of Tamur's glorious race: Sublime he sits, amid the radiant blaze Of gems and gold. Omrahs about him crowd, And rein th' Arabian steed, and watch his nod: And potent rajahs, who themselves preside O'er realms of wide extent; but here submiss Their homage pay, alternate kings and slaves. Next these, with prying eunuchs girt around, The fair sultanas of his court: a troop Of chosen beauties, but with care conceal'd From each intrusive eye; one look is death. Ah, cruel eastern law! (had kings a power But equal to their wild tyrannic will) To rob us of the Sun's all-cheering ray, The vulgar close the march, Were less severe. Slaves and artificers; and Delhi mourns Her empty and depopulated streets. Now at the camp arriv'd, with stern review, Through groves of spears, from file to file he darts His sharp experienc'd eye; their order marks, Each in his station rang'd, exact and firm, Till in the boundless line his sight is lost. Not greater multitudes in arms appear'd On these extended plains, when Ammon's son With mighty Porus in dread battle join'd, The vassal world the prize. Nor was that host More numerous of old, which the great king* Pour'd out on Greece from all th' unpeopled East, That bridg'd the Hellespont from shore to shore, And drank the rivers dry. Meanwhile in troops The busy hunter-train mark out the ground, A wide circumference, full many a league
In compass round; woods, rivers, hills, and plains Ambition's highest aim, could reason bound Large provinces; enough to gratify Man's erring will. Now sit in close divan He from the throne high-eminent presides, The mighty chiefs of this prodigious host.
Gives out his mandates proud, laws of the chase. From ancient records drawn. With reverence lo And prostrate at his feet, the chiefs receive His irreversible decrees, from which
To vary is to die. Then his brave bands Each to his station leads; encamping round, Till the wide circle is completely form'd Where decent order reigns, what these command In all the strictest discipline of war: Those execute with speed, and punctual care,
As if some watchful foe, with bold insult, Hung lowering o'er their camp. The high resolve, That flies on wings through all th' encircling line, Each motion steers, and animates the whole. So by the Sun's attractive power controll'd, The planets in their spheres roll round his orb: On all he shines, and rules the great machine. Ere yet the morn dispels the fleeting mists; The signal given by the loud trumpet's voice, Now high in air th' imperial standard waves, Emblazon'd rich with gold, and glittering gems. And like a sheet of fire, through the dun gloom The soldiers' shouts, And all the brazen instruments of war, Streaming meteorous. With mutual clamor, and united din. Fill the large concave.
While from camp to camp
They catch the varied sounds, floating in air, Round all the wide circumference, tigers fell Shrink at the noise, deep in his gloomy den The lion starts, and morsels yet unchew'd Drop from his trembling jaws. Now all at once Onward they march embattled, to the sound Of martial harmony; fifes, cornets, drums, That rouse the sleepy soul to arms, and bold In parties here and there Heroic deeds.
Detach'd o'er hill and dale, the hunters range : Inquisitive; strong dogs, that match in fight The boldest brute, around their masters wait, A faithful guard. No haunt unsearch'd, they drive From every covert, and from every den, Incessant shouts The lurking savages.
Re-echo through the woods, and kindling fires Gleam from the mountain tops; the forest seems One mingling blaze: like flocks of sheep they fly Before the flaming brand: fierce lions, pards, Boars, tigers, bears and wolves; a dreadful crew Of grim blood-thirsty foes; growling along, They stalk indignant; but fierce vengeance still Soon as the Night Present immediate death. Hangs pealing on their rear, and pointed spears Wrapt in her sable veil forbids the chase, They pitch their tents, in even ranks, around The circling camp. The guards are plac'd, and fires At proper distances ascending rise,
And paint th' horizon with their ruddy light. So round some island's shore of large extent, Amid the gloomy horrors of the night, Seem all one flame, and the bright circuit wide The billows breaking on the pointed rocks, Appears a bulwark of surrounding fire. What dreadful howlings, and what hideous roar, Disturb those peaceful shades! where erst the bird That glads the night had cheer'd the listening groves With sweet complainings. Through the silent gloom
Oft they the guards assail; as oft repell'd They fly reluctant, with hot boiling rage Stung to the quick, and mad with wild despair. Thus day by day they still the chase renew, At night encamp; till now in straiter bounds The circle lessens, and the beasts perceive The wall that hems them in on every side. And now their fury bursts, and knows no mean; From man they turn, and point their ill-judg'd rage Against their fellow-brutes. With teeth and claws The civil war begins; grappling they tear. Lions on tigers prey, and bears on wolves: Horrible discord! till the crowd behind Shouting pursue, and part the bloody fray. At once their wrath subsides; tame as the lamb The lion hangs his head, the furious pard, Cow'd and subdu'd, flies from the face of man, Nor bears one glance of his commanding eye. So abject is a tyrant in distress!
At last, within the narrow plain confin'd, A listed field, mark'd out for bloody deeds, An amphitheatre more glorious far
Than ancient Rome could boast, they crowd in heaps, Dismay'd, and quite appall'd. In meet array, Sheath'd in refulgent arms, a noble band Advance; great lords of high imperial blood, Early resolv'd t' assert their royal race, And prove by glorious deeds their valor's growth Mature, ere yet the callow down has spread Its curling shade. On bold Arabian steeds With decent pride they sit, that fearless hear The lion's dreadful roar; and down the rock Swift shooting plunge, or o'er the mountain's ridge Stretching along, the greedy tiger leave Panting behind. On foot their faithful slaves With javelins arm'd attend; each watchful eye Fix'd on his youthful care, for him alone He fears, and, to redeem his life, unmov'd Would lose his own. The mighty Aurengzebe, From his high-elevated throne, beholds His blooming race; revolving in his mind What once he was, in his gay spring of life, When vigor strung his nerves. Parental joy Melts in his eye, and flushes in his cheek. Now the loud trumpet sounds a charge. The shouts Of eager hosts, through all the circling line, And the wild howlings of the beasts within, Rend wide the welkin; flights of arrows, wing'd With death, and javelins lanch'd from every arm, Gall sore the brutal band, with many a wound Gor'd through and through. Despair at last prevails, When fainting Nature shrinks, and rouses all Their drooping courage. Swell'd with furious rage, Their eyes dart fire; and on the youthful band They rush implacable. They their broad shields Quick interpose; on each devoted head Their flaming falchions, as the bolts of Jove, Descend unerring. Prostrate on the ground The grinning monsters lie, and their foul gore Defiles the verdant plain. Nor idle stand The trusty slaves; with pointed spears they pierce Through their tough hides; or at their gaping mouths An easier passage find. The king of brutes In broken roarings breathes his last; the bear Grumbles in death; nor can his spotted skin, Though sleek it shine, with varied beauties gay, Save the proud pard from unrelenting fate. The battle bleeds, grim Slaughter strides along, Glutting her greedy jaws, grins o'er her prey: Men. horses, dogs, fierce beasts of every kind,
A strange promiscuous carnage, drench'd in blood, And heaps on heaps amass'd. What yet remain Alive, with vain assault contend to break Th' impenetrable line. Others, whom fear Inspires with self-preserving wiles, beneath The bodies of the slain for shelter creep. Aghast they fly, or hide their heads dispers'd. And now perchance (had Heaven but pleas'd) the work
Of death had been complete; and Aurengzebe By one dread frown extinguish'd half their race. When lo! the bright sultanas of his court Appear, and to his ravish'd eyes display Those charms but rarely to the day reveal'd.
Lowly they bend, and humbly sue, to save The vanquish'd host. What mortal can deny, When suppliant Beauty begs? At his command, Opening to right and left, the well-train'd troops Leave a large void for their retreating foes. Away they fly, on wings of fear upborne, To seek on distant hills their late abodes.
Ye proud oppressors, whose vain hearts exult In wantonness of power 'gainst the brute race, Fierce robbers like yourselves, a guiltless war Wage uncontroll'd: here quench your thirst of blood:
But learn from Aurengzebe to spare mankind.
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 pit- fall for the lion; and another for the elephant. The ancient way of hunting the tiger with a mirror. The Arabian manner of hunting the wild boar. Description of the royal stag-chase at Windsor Forest. Concludes with an address to his Majesty, and an eulogy upon mercy.
IN Albion's isle, when glorious Edgar reign'd, He, wisely provident, from her white cliffs Launch'd half her forests, and with numerous fleets Cover'd his wide domain: there proudly rode Lord of the deep, the great prerogative Of 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 shores With swelling sails the trembling corsair fled. Rich commerce flourish'd; and with busy oars Dash'd the resounding surge. Nor less at land His royal cares; wise, potent, gracious prince! His subjects from their cruel foes he sav'd, And from rapacious savages their flocks: Cambria's proud kings (though with reluctance) paid Their tributary wolves; head after head, In full account, till the woods yield no more, And all the ravenous race extinct is lost. In fertile pastures, more securely graz'd The social troops; and soon their large increase With curling fleeces whiten'd all the plains. But yet, alas! the wily fox remain'd,
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