The poems of Dr. Yalden :: :: University of Virginia Library

As crafty Reynard strove to swim
The torrent of a rapid stream,
To gain the farther side:
Before the middle space was past,
A whirling eddy caught him fast,
And drove him with the tide.

With vain efforts and struggling spent,
Half drown'd, yet forc'd to be content,
Poor Ren a soaking lay;
Till some kind ebb should set him free,
Or chance restore that liberty
The waves had took away.

A swarm of half-starv'd haggard Flies,
With fury seiz'd the floating prize,
By raging hunger led;
With many a curse and bitter groan,
He shook his sides, and wish'd them gone,
Whilst plenteously they fed.

A Hedge-hog saw his evil plight;
Touch'd with compassion at the sight,
Quoth he, “To show I'm civil,
I'll brush those swigging dogs away,
That on thy blood remorseless prey,
And send them to the Devil.”

“No, courteous sir, the Fox reply'd,
Let them infest and gore my hide,
With their insatiate thirst;
Since I such fatal wounds sustain,
'Twill yield some pleasure midst the pain,
To see the blood hounds burst.”

THE MORAL; FROM NOSTRADAMUS.

Le sang du juste à Londres fera saute
Brusler par feu, &c.

Thus guilty Britain to her Thames complains,
“With royal blood defil'd, O cleanse my stains!
Whence plagues arise! whence dire contagions come!
And flames that my Augusta's pride consume!”

“In vain,” saith Thames; “the regicidal breed
Will swarm again, by them thy land shall bleed:
Extremest curse! but so just Heaven decreed!
Republicans shall Britain's treasures drain,
Betray her monarch, and her church prophane!
Till, gorg'd with spoils, with blood the leeches burst,
Or Tyburn add the second to the first.”