And now thy female bears in ample womb 



The bane of hares, and triumphs yet to come. 



No sport, I wean, nor blast of sprightly horn, 



Should tempt me then to hurt the whelps unborn. 



Unlock'd, in covers let her freely run, 



To range thy courts, and bark before the sun ; 



Near thy full table, let the favourite stand, 



Strok'd by thy son's, or blooming daughter's hand. 



Caress, indulge, by arts the matron bride, 



T' improve her breed and teem a vigorous tribe. 



* • • t 



Thomas Tickell. 



Argus -*o *^> o ^ o ^> 



"\ \ 7HEN wise Ulysses, from his native coast 



Long kept by wars, and long by tempests 

 tossed, 

 Arrived at last, poor, old, disguised, alone, 

 To all his friends and ev'n his Queen unknown ; 

 Changed as he was, with age, and toils, and 



cares, 

 Furrowed his reverend face, and white his hairs, 

 In his own palace forced to ask his bread, 

 Scorned by those slaves his former bounty fed, 

 Forgot of all his own domestic crew ; 

 The faithful dog alone his rightful master knew ! 

 Unfed, unhoused, neglected, on the clay, 



72 



