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 | Miscellaneous works of George Wither |  |
A Riddle for Recreation, not impertinent to this Place.
Into a Park, I lately came,Wherein are many herds of Game,
Whereof the Keepers take no care,
And yet, they in abundance are.
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Which, on no Browse, nor Grasse do feed;
Are Found, before that they are sought;
Aswell in sleep, as waking caught:
So silently, they hunted are
That, neither Hound nor Horn we hear
When chatc't: They, are the onely things,
Left free for Beggars and for Kings
To Hunt at will: and, all that we
Assur'd of by our Charters be.
What Park is this? What Game are these?
Tell me, and Hunt there, when you please.
| Miscellaneous works of George Wither | |