A wood? quoth Lewis; and with that, He laughd, and shook his Sides so fat: His tongue (with Eye that markd his cunning) Thus fell a reas'ning, not a running. Woods are (not to be too prolix) Collective Bodies of strait Sticks. It is, my Lord, a meer Conundrum To call things Woods, for what grows und'r 'em. For Shrubs, when nothing else at top is, Can only constitute a Coppice. But if you will not take my word, See Anno quart. of Edward, third. And that they're Coppice calld, when dock'd, Witness Ann. prim. of Henry Oct. If this a Wood you will maintain Meerly because it is no Plain; Holland (for all that I can see) Might e'en as well be termed the Sea; And C-- by be fair harangu'd An honest Man, because not hang'd. |