bly veer'd about at last,
And with his tail the dust and dirt
He full into his face did flirt.
Whilst Growler rubb'd his eyes with pain,
Reynard his flirts renew'd again,
Till Growler was quite spent at last,
And by the throat he held him fast.
'Sir Wolf,(he said,)if heretofore
Poor lambs and kids you oft have tore,
It is high time now to repent,
Before your last breath you have spent,
And with contrition to behave,
If you would wish your soul to save.'
"In this provoking style he spoke,
Striving his enemy to choke;
But Growler was for him too strong,
And broke loose from his hold erelong;
Though ere he got out of his jaws,
Reynard gall'd him with teeth and claws;
One of his eyes was almost out,
And streams of blood ran down his snout.
"As soon as he his blood did view,
At Reynard in a rage he flew;
He got him under, and his paw
He seized, and held it in his jaw.
'You caitiff, your last hour has come,
(Said he,) and you'll meet with your doom.
'T shall not avail you now, to shear,
To flirt, kick up a dust, and smear.
I'll make you pay for all your lies,
And for the damage of my eyes.'
"Whilst Growler kept hold of the paw,
Sly Reynard with his other claw
Seiz'd him in such a tender part,
That it made Growler howl with smart,
And forced him soon to ope his jaw,
And to let go the imprison'd paw.
Reynard now tugg'd, and pull'd, and tore,
And made the Wolf spit blood and gore;
He brought him senseless to the ground,
And dragg'd him through the lists around.
"When this his wife and friends perceived,
They were much terrified and grieved.
Then pray'd the king to use his right,
And to suspend the bloody fight.
"The king took their request to heart,
And bade the champions straight to part,
To whom the leopard and the ounce,
As wardens, did his will announce.
"Reynard," they said, "the king has sent
To let you know 'tis his intent
To put an end to all your strife.
He bids you to spare Growler's life;
For 'twould be a pity after all,
If either of you both should fall.
Meantime all, who are present, say
That you at last have won the day.'"

NAYLOR.

"Hark! hark! the tuckets sound on high!
'He comes! Sir Isengrim!' they cry.
The Wolf and all his kith and kin
Approach in long array! The din
Their multitudinous trampling made
Resounded like a cavalcade
Of mailed warriors o