And withered every tender plant,
A hare, compelled by urgent want,
Ventured within your garden pale
To taste your parsley and your kale.
Soon of her steps you saw the trace,
And whistled Fury to the chace.
The fatal scent her track reveals,
And the fierce cur pursued her heels;
[p15]
Vain was her speed! her failing breath
Left her within the jaws of death,