With swelling sails the trembling corsair fled.
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  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
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  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: 
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  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,
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  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,
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  Press to their standard; hither all repair,
  And hurry through the woods; with hasty step
  Bustling, and full of hope; now driven on heaps
  They push, they strive; while from his kennel sneaks
  The conscious villain.  See! he skulks along,
  Sleek at the shepherd’s cost, and plump with meals
  Purloined.  So thrive the wicked here below. 
  Though high his brush he bear, though tipped with white
  It gaily shine; yet ere the sun declined
  Recall the shades of night, the pampered rogue
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  Shall rue his fate reversed; and at his heels
  Behold the just avenger, swift to seize
  His forfeit head, and thirsting for his blood. 
     Heavens! what melodious strains! how beat our hearts
  Big with tumultuous joy! the loaded gales
  Breathe harmony; and as the tempest drives