The Lion awfully forbids the prey.
}
Their rage repressed, though pinched with famine sore, }
They stand aloof, and tremble at his roar; }
Much is their hunger, but their fear is more. }
These are the chief; to number o'er the rest,
And stand, like Adam, naming every beast,
Were weary work; nor will the muse describe
A slimy-born and sun-begotten tribe;
Who, far from steeples and their sacred sound,