His breast, the arrow-head to meet the bow,
Till the bow formed a circle. Then it twanged;
The cord gave out a shrilly sound; the shaft
Leaped forth in eager haste to reach the host.—Bryant.
Note 37, p. [108].
Prologue to the Satires, 340.
That not in Fancy’s maze he wandered long,
But stooped to Truth and moralized his song.
Ibid. 148.
... Who could take offence