A hasty grave, scarce hidden there from dogs
And ravens, nor from wintry rains secure.—[XXII. p. 204.]
In composing these lines I remembered a far more beautiful passage in one of the Eclogues of the Jesuit Bussieres:—
Artesius ruit ecce furens, finesque propinquos
Insultans, stragem agricolis fugientibus infert.
Quid facerem? matrem, ut potui, tenerumque puellum
Raptabam, et mediis abdebam corpora silvis.
Aspera jam frigebat hyems, frondosaque quercus
Pro tecto et latebris ramos præbebat opacos;