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III.

Stop, Neighbours! stop! why these alarms?

The Ox is only glad—
But still they pour from cots and farms—
Halloo! the parish is up in arms,
(A hoaxing-hunt has always charms)
Halloo! the Ox is mad.

IV.

The frighted beast scamper'd about;

Plunge! through the hedge he drove—
The mob pursue with hideous rout,
A bull-dog fastens on his snout;
He gores the dog, his tongue hangs out;
He's mad! he's mad, by Jove!

V.

"Stop, Neighbours, stop!" aloud did call

A sage of sober hue.
But all, at once, on him they fall,
And women squeak and children squall,
"What! would you have him toss us all?
"And damme! who are you?"