proud oppressors, whose vain hearts exult
In wantonness of power, 'gainst the brute race,
_520
Fierce robbers like yourselves, a guiltless war
Wage uncontrolled: here quench your thirst of blood:
But learn from Aurengzebe to spare mankind.

BOOK III.

THE ARGUMENT.

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 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 reigned,
He wisely provident, from her white cliffs
Launched half her forests, and with numerous fleets
Covered 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 gazed,
And disappointed, gnashed his teeth in vain.
He scoured the seas, and to remotest shores
With swelling sails the trembling corsair fled.
_10
Rich commerce flourished; and with busy oars
Dashed the resounding surge. Nor less at land
His royal cares; wise, potent, gracious prince!
His subjects from their cruel foes he saved,
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 grazed
_20
The social troops; and soon their large increase
With curling fleeces whitened all the plains.
But yet, alas! the wily fox remained,
A subtle, pilfering foe, prowling around 24
In midnight shades, and wakeful to destroy.
In the full fold, the poor defenceless lamb,
Seized by his guileful arts, with sweet warm blood
Supplies a rich repast. The mournful ewe,
Her dearest treasure lost, through the dun night
Wanders perplexed, and darkling bleats in vain:
_30
While in the adjacent bush, poor Philomel,
(Herself a parent once, till wanton churls
Despoiled her nest) joins in her loud