Of King Edgar and his imposing a tribute of wolves' heads upon the kings of Wales: from hence a transition to fox-hunting, which is described in all its parts.--Censure of an over-numerous pack.--Of the several engines to destroy foxes, and other wild beasts.--The steel-trap described, and the manner of using it.--Description of the pitfall for the lion; and another for the elephant.--The ancient way of hunting the tiger with a mirror.--The Arabian manner of hunting the wild boar.--Description of the royal stag-chase at Windsor Forest.--Concludes with an address to his Majesty, and an eulogy upon mercy. In Albion's isle when glorious Edgar reigned, He wisely provident, from her white cliffs Launched half her forests, and with numerous fleets Covered his wide domain: there proudly rode Lord of the deep, the great prerogative Of British monarchs. Each invader bold, Dane and Norwegian, at a distance gazed, And disappointed, gnashed his teeth in vain. He scoured the seas, and to remotest shores With swelling sails the trembling corsair fled. _10 Rich commerce flourished; and with busy oars Dashed the resounding surge. Nor less at land His royal cares; wise, potent, gracious prince! His subjects from their cruel foes he saved, And from rapacious savages their flocks. Cambria's proud kings (though with reluctance) paid Their tributary wolves; head after head, In full account, till the woods yield no more, And all the ravenous race extinct is lost. In fertile pastures, more securely grazed _20 The social troops; and soon their large increase With curling fleeces whitened all the plains. But yet, alas! the wily fox remained, A subtle, pilfering foe, prowling around 24 In midnight shades, and wakeful to destroy. In the full fold, the poor defenceless lamb, Seized by his guileful arts, with sweet warm blood Supplies a rich repast. The mournful ewe, Her dearest treasure lost, through the dun night Wanders perplexed, and darkling bleats in vain: _30 While in the adjacent bush, poor Philomel, (Herself a parent once, till wanton churls Despoiled her nest) joins in her loud laments, With sweeter notes, and more melodious woe. For these nocturnal thieves, huntsman, prepare Thy sharpest vengeance. Oh! how glorious 'tis To right the oppressed, and bring the felon vile To just disgrace! Ere yet the morning peep, Or stars retire from the first blush of day, With thy far-echoing voice alarm thy pack, _40 And rouse thy bold compeers. Then to the copse, Thick with entangling grass, or prickly furze, With silence lead thy many-coloured hounds, In all their beauty's pride. See! how they range Dispersed, how busily this way and that, They cross, examining with curious nose Each likely haunt. Hark! on the drag I hear Their doubtful notes, preluding to a cry More nobly full, and swelled with every mouth. As straggling armies at the trumpet's voice, _50