The boy, delighted, sets his secret snares,
Clearing broad paths amid the yellow leaves,
Where the cock-partridge may strut in pride
At earliest dawn, and find the fatal noose;
There, when the sun is peeping o’er the hills,
Tinging the woodland sea with gorgeous hues,
He goes, with eager step and anxious eye,
Beholds the path obscured, the sapling sprung,
And, ’mid the maple boughs, his mottled prey.
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