Page:The Chace - Somervile (1735).djvu/146

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THE CHACE.
Book IV.
With him it mounts; sure Guide to ev'ry Foe.Inly he groans, nor can his tender Wound 455Bear the cold Stream. Lo! to yon sedgy BankHe creeps disconsolate; his num'rous FoesSurround him, Hounds, and Men. Pierc'd thro' and thro',On pointed Spears they lift him high in Air;Wriggling he hangs, and grins, and bites in vain:Bid the loud Horns, in gayly-warbling Strains,Proclaim the Felon's Fate; he dies, he dies.
Rejoice, ye scaly Tribes, and leaping danceAbove the Wave, in Sign of LibertyRestor'd; the cruel Tyrant is no more. 465Rejoice secure and bless'd; did not as yetRemain, some of your own rapacious Kind;And Man, fierce Man, with all his various Wiles.

O Hap-

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