134 SHOOTING: 



By strong desire from his maternal grove, 



To fall from home a martyr to his love. 



In such retreats, 'mongst furze, and ferns, and grass, 



They take delight their mid-day oft to pass ; 



And if the saplings have not grown loo high, 



You get an open shot when up they fly, 



Nor need I say, such are more sure to die. 



With but one Pointer, I have quickly kill'd 



As many brace as have my pockets filPd, 



In such retreats : in shady osier beds, 



Or alder groves, they love to hide their heads. 



Your shot from number seven to number four 

 You now should change, or p'rhaps you may deplore 

 The loss of many Hares : to larger size 

 He of the wood will grow, in pace outvies 

 Those of the hill or marsh ; a deal of lead 

 At distance short, 'twill take to kill him dead ; 

 His fur is of a lighter colour ; and 

 Amongst the Epicures he'll foremost stand: 



