THE HUNTING OF THE HARE by MARGARET LUCAS CAVENDISH

Betwixt two @3Ridges@1 of @3Plowd-land@1, lay @3Wat@1,
@3Pressing@1 his @3Body@1 close to @3Earth@1 lay squat.
His @3Nose@1 upon his two @3Fore-feet@1 close lies,
Glaring obliquely with his @3great gray Eyes@1.
His @3Head@1 he alwaies sets against the @3Wind@1;
If turne his @3Taile@1, his @3Haires@1 blow up behind:
Which @3he@1 too cold will grow, but @3he@1 is wise,
And keepes his @3Coat@1 still downe, so warm @3he@1 lies.
Thus resting all the @3day@1, till @3Sun@1 doth set,
Then riseth up, his @3Reliefe@1 for to get.
Walking about until the @3Sun@1 doth rise,
Then back returnes, downe in his @3Forme he@1 lyes.
At last, @3Poore Wat@1 was found, as @3he@1 there lay,
By @3Hunts-men@1, with their @3Dogs@1 which came that way.
Seeing, gets up, and fast begins to run,
Hoping some waies the @3Cruell Dogs@1 to shun.
But they by @3Nature@1 have so quick a @3Sent@1,
That by their @3Nose@1 they trace what way @3he@1 went.
And with their deep, wide @3Mouths@1 set forth a @3Cry@1,
Which answer'd was by @3Ecchoes@1 in the @3Skie@1.
Then @3Wat@1 was struck with @3Terrour@1, and with @3Feare@1,
Thinkes every @3Shadow@1 still the @3Dogs@1 they were.
And running out some distance from the @3noise@1,
To hide himselfe, his @3Thoughts@1 he new imploies.
Under a @3Clod@1 of @3Earth@1 in @3Sand-pit@1 wide,
Poore @3Wat@1 sat close, hoping himselfe to hide.
There long he had not sat, but strait his @3Eares@1
The @3Winding Hornes@1, and crying @3Dogs@1 he heares:
Starting with @3Feare@1, up leapes, then doth he run,
And with such speed, the @3Ground@1 scarce treades upon.
Into a great thick @3Wood he@1 strait way gets,
Where underneath a @3broken Bough he@1 sits.
At every @3Leafe@1 that with the @3wind@1 did shake,
Did bring such @3Terrour@1, made his @3Heart@1 to ake.
That @3Place he@1 left, to @3Champian Plaines he@1 went,
Winding about, for to deceive their @3Sent@1.
And while they @3snuffling@1 were, to find his @3Track@1,
@3Poore Wat@1, being weary, his swift pace did slack.
On his two @3hinder legs@1 for ease did sit,
His @3Fore-feet@1 rub'd his @3Face@1 from @3Dust@1, and @3Sweat@1.
Licking his @3Feet, he@1 wip'd his @3Eares@1 so cleane,
That none could tell that @3Wat@1 had hunted been.
But casting round about his @3faire great Eyes@1,
The @3Hounds@1 in full @3Careere@1 he neere him 'spies:
To @3Wat@1 it was so terrible a @3Sight@1,
@3Feare@1 gave him @3Wings@1, and made his @3Body@1 light.
Though weary was before, by running long,
Yet now his @3Breath@1 he never felt more strong.
Like those that @3dying@1 are, think @3Health@1 returnes,
When tis but a @3faint Blast@1, which @3Life@1 out burnes.
For @3Spirits@1 seek to guard the @3Heart@1 about,
Striving with @3Death@1, but @3Death@1 doth quench them out.
Thus they so fast came on, with such loud @3Cries@1,
That @3he@1 no hopes hath left, nor @3help@1 espies.
With that the @3Winds@1 did pity @3poore Wats@1 case,
And with their @3Breath@1 the @3Sent@1 blew from the @3Place@1.
Then every @3Nose@1 is busily imployed,
And every @3Nostrill@1 is set open, wide:
And every @3Head@1 doth seek a several way,
To find what @3Grasse@1, or @3Track@1, the @3Sent@1 on lay.
@3Thus quick Industry, that is not slack,
Is like to Witchery, brings lost things back.@1
For though the @3Wind@1 had tied the @3Sent@1 up close,
A @3Busie Dog@1 thrust in his @3Snuffling Nose@1:
And drew it out, with it did foremost run,
Then @3Hornes@1 blew loud, for th' @3rest@1 to follow on.
The @3great slow-Hounds@1, their throats did set a @3Base@1,
The @3Fleet Swift Hounds@1, as @3Tenours@1 next in place;
The little @3Beagles@1 they a @3Trebble@1 sing,
And through the @3Aire@1 their @3Voice@1 a round did ring?
Which made a @3Consort@1, as they ran along;
If they but @3words@1 could speak, might sing a @3Song@1,
The @3Hornes@1 kept time, the @3Hunters@1 shout for @3Joy@1,
And valiant seeme, @3poore Wat@1 for to destroy:
Spurring their @3Horses@1 to a full @3Careere@1,
@3Swim Rivers deep, leap Ditches@1 without feare;
Indanger @3Life@1, and @3Limbes@1, so fast will ride,
Onely to see how patiently @3Wat@1 died.
For why, the @3Dogs@1 so neere his @3Heeles@1 did get,
That they their sharp @3Teeth@1 in his @3Breech@1 did set.
Then tumbling downe, did fall with @3weeping Eyes@1,
Gives up his @3Ghost@1, and thus poore @3Wat he@1 dies.
@3Men@1 hooping loud, such @3Acclamations@1 make,
As if the @3Devill@1 they did @3Prisoner@1 take.
When they do but a @3shiftlesse Creature@1 kill;
To hunt, there needs no @3Valiant Souldiers@1 skill.
But @3Man@1 doth think that @3Exercise@1, and @3Toile@1,
To keep their @3Health@1, is best, which makes most spoile.
Thinking that @3Food@1, and @3Nourishment@1 so good,
And @3Appetite@1, that feeds on @3Flesh@1, and @3Blood@1.
When they do @3Lions, Wolves, Beares, Tigers@1 see,
To kill poore @3Sheep@1, strait say, they cruell be.
But for themselves all @3Creatures@1 think too few,
For @3Luxury@1, wish @3God@1 would make them new.
As if that @3God@1 made @3Creatures@1 for @3Mans meat@1,
To give them @3Life@1, and @3Sense@1, for @3Man@1 to eat;
Or else for @3Sport@1, or @3Recreations@1 sake,
Destroy those @3Lifes@1 that @3God@1 saw good to make:
Making their @3Stomacks, Graves@1, which full they fill
With @3Murther'd Bodies@1, that in sport they kill.
Yet @3Man@1 doth think himselfe so gentle, mild,
When @3he@1 of @3Creatures@1 is most cruell wild.
And is so @3Proud@1, thinks onely he shall live,
That @3God@1 a @3God@1-like @3Nature@1 did him give.
And that all @3Creatures@1 for his sake alone,
Was made for him, to @3Tyrannize@1 upon.

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