Page:The Chace - Somervile (1735).djvu/83

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Book III.
THE CHACE.
63
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!

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