Hunters from far the roaring Challenge dread,
When Monarch-Lions with majestick Tread,
Their princely Train thro' all the Forrest lead.
The Royal Dam looks round with proud Disdain,
Lashes her Sides, and curls her flowing Mane;
No Danger fears, but willing to engage
With chafing Jaws she churns the frothy Rage,
Redoubled Fires flash from her rolling Eyes,
Clods scatter'd flie, and dusty Columns rise.
Roaring She frights the Herd, and shakes the Plain,
Mocks the slung Stone, and knaps the Spear in twain;
Still guards her Young, the Hunter's Motion thwarts,
And wrenches from her Sides the reeking Darts.
But when Death hovers o'er her swimming Eyes,
And clotted on the Ground Life's wasted Treasure lies,
When doubtful Staggers own the killing Wound;
Regardless of her self She looks around,
O'er the dear Cub her sinking Head reclines,
In Death defends, nor at her Fate repines.
But dreads to see the Wretch a Captive made,
To hear him roar, and call in vain for Aid,
When close confin'd he strives with bootless Rage,
Unsheaths his Claws, and beats the sounding Cage.