Page:The Chace - Somervile (1735).djvu/112

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THE CHACE.
Book III.
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,

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