Page:The Chace - Somervile (1735).djvu/144

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124
THE CHACE.
Book IV.
Now on firm Land they range; then in the Flood
They plunge tumultuous; or thro' reedy Pools 420
Rustling they work their Way: no Holt escapes
Their curious Search. With quick Sensation now
The fuming Vapour stings; flutter their Hearts,
And Joy redoubled bursts from ev'ry Mouth,
In louder Symphonies. Yon hollow Trunk, 425
That with its hoary Head incurv'd, salutes
The passing Wave; must be the Tyrant's Fort,
And dread abode. How these impatient climb,
While others at the Root incessant Bay:
They put him down. See, there he dives along! 430
Th' ascending Bubbles mark his gloomy Way.
Quick fix the Nets, and cut off his Retreat
Into the shelt'ring Deeps. Ah, there he vents!
The Pack plunge headlong, and protended Spears
Menace Destruction. While the troubled Surge 435
Indignant foams, and all the scaly Kind

Affrighted,