Indignant foams, and all the scaly kind 

 Affrighted hide their heads. Wild tumult reigns, 

 And loud uproar. Ah, there once more he vents ! 

 See, that bold hound has seiz'd him ; down they sink, 

 Together lost : but soon shall he repent 

 His rash assault. See there escap'd, he flies 

 Half-drown'd, and clambers up the slipp'ry bank 

 With ooze and blood distain'd. Of all the brutes, 

 Whether by Nature form'd, or by long use, 

 This artful diver best can bear the want 

 Of vital air. Unequal is the fight 

 Beneath the whelming element. Yet there 

 He lives not long ; but respiration needs 

 At proper intervals. Again he vents ; 

 Again the crowd attack. That spear has piere'd 

 His neck ; the crimson waves confess the wound. 

 Fix'd is the bearded lance, unwelcome guest 

 Where'er he flies ; with him it sinks beneath, 

 With him it mounts ; sure guide to ev'ry foe. 

 Inly he groans ; nor can his tender wound 

 Bear the cold stream. Lo ! to yon sedgy bank 

 He creeps disconsolate ; his num'rous foes 

 Surround him, hounds and men. Piere'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 gaily-warbling strains, 

 Proclaim the felon's fate ; he dies, he dies. 



William Some}~ville. 

 56 



