Haply too near approach, or the loose earth His footing fail, the watchful angry beast The advantage spies, and, at one sidelong glance, Rips up his groin. Wounded, he rears aloft, And, plunging, from his back the rider hurls Precipitant; then, bleeding, spurns the ground, And drags his reeking entrails o’er the plain. Meanwhile the surly monster trots along, But with unequal speed; for still they wound, Swift wheeling in the spacious ring: a wood Of darts upon his back he bears; adown His tortured sides the crimson torrents roll, From many a gaping font; and now at last, Staggering, he falls, in blood and foam expires. But whither roves my devious Muse, intent On antique tales, while yet the royal stag Unsung remains? Tread, with respectful awe, Windsor’s green glades, where Denham, tuneful bard, Charm’d once the listening Dryads with his song, Sublimely sweet. O grant me, sacred shade, To glean, submiss, what thy full sickle leaves! The morning sun, that gilds, with trembling rays, Windsor’s high towers, beholds the courtly train Mount for the chase; nor views in all his course A scene so gay: heroick, noble youths, [Sidenote: BOOK III THE CHASE v. 355-379.] In arts and arms renown’d, and lovely nymphs, The fairest of this isle, where beauty dwells, Delighted, and deserts her Paphian grove, For our more favour’d shades; in proud parade These shine magnificent, and press around The royal happy pair. Great in themselves, They smile superiour; of external show Regardless, while their inbred virtues give A lustre to their power, and grace their court With real splendours, far above the pomp Of Eastern kings, in all their tinsel pride. Like troops of Amazons, the female band Prance round their cars; not in refulgent arms, As those of old; unskill’d to wield the sword, Or bend the bow, these kill with surer aim. The royal offspring, fairest of the fair, Lead on the splendid train. Anna, more bright Than summer suns, or as the lightning keen, With irresistible effulgence arm’d, Fires every heart: he must be more than man Who, unconcern’d, can bear the piercing ray. Amelia, milder than the blushing dawn, With sweet engaging air, but equal power, Insensibly subdues, and in soft chains Her willing captives leads. Illustrious maids! [Sidenote: BOOK III THE CHASE v. 380-404.]