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The Hind and the Panther.
145
They fight their Quarrel, by themselves opprest;
The Tyrant smiles below, and waits the falling feast.

Thus did the gentle Hind her fable end,
Nor would the Panther blame it, nor commend;
But, with affected Yawnings at the close,
Seemed to require her natural repose.
For now the streaky light began to peep;
And setting stars admonish'd both to sleep.
The Dame withdrew, and, wishing to her Guest
The peace of Heav'n, betook her self to rest.
Ten thousand Angels on her slumbers waite
With glorious Visions of her future state.


FINIS.