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About the field; but doe not strictly know
That they were shed by fury of that blow.
This they affirme; the Turkey in his looke
Express'd how much, he it unkindly tooke,
That wanting food; our Ieff'ry would not let him,
Enjoy awhile the privilege to eat him:
His Taile he spreads, jets back; then turnes agen;
And fought, as if, for th'honour of his Hen:
Ieff'ry retorts each stroke; and then cryes; Mauger
Thy strength, I will dissect thee like an Augure!
But who of mortall race, deserves to write
The next encounter in this bloudy fight?
Wisely didst thou (O Poet of Anchusin;)
Stay here thy Pen, and lure thy eager Muse in;
Envoking Mars, some halfe an houre at least,
To helpe thy fury onward with the rest:
For Ieff'ry strait was throwne; whilst saint, and weake,
The cruell Foe, assaults him with his Beake.
A Lady-Midwife now, he there by chance
Espy'd, that came along with him from France:
A heart nours'd up in War; that ne're before
This time (quoth he) could bow, now doth implore:
That they were shed by fury of that blow.
This they affirme; the Turkey in his looke
Express'd how much, he it unkindly tooke,
That wanting food; our Ieff'ry would not let him,
Enjoy awhile the privilege to eat him:
His Taile he spreads, jets back; then turnes agen;
And fought, as if, for th'honour of his Hen:
Ieff'ry retorts each stroke; and then cryes; Mauger
Thy strength, I will dissect thee like an Augure!
But who of mortall race, deserves to write
The next encounter in this bloudy fight?
Wisely didst thou (O Poet of Anchusin;)
Stay here thy Pen, and lure thy eager Muse in;
Envoking Mars, some halfe an houre at least,
To helpe thy fury onward with the rest:
For Ieff'ry strait was throwne; whilst saint, and weake,
The cruell Foe, assaults him with his Beake.
A Lady-Midwife now, he there by chance
Espy'd, that came along with him from France:
A heart nours'd up in War; that ne're before
This time (quoth he) could bow, now doth implore:
Thou
