a wood) which being followed close by the Tinchel, are chased down into the valley where we lay; then all the valley on each side being waylaid with a hundred couple of strong Irish greyhounds, they are let loose as the occasion serves upon the herd of deer, so that with dogs, guns, arrows, dirks, and daggers, in the space of two hours, fourscore fat deer were slain, which after are disposed of some one way, and some another, twenty and thirty miles, and more than enough left for us to make merry withal at our rendezvous. I liked the sport so well, that I made these two sonnets following.
HY should I waste invention to indite,
Ovidian fictions, or Olympian games?
My misty Muse enlightened with more light,
To a more noble pitch her aim she frames.
I must relate to my great Master James,
The Caledonian annual peaceful war;
How noble minds do eternize their fames,
By martial meeting in the Brae of Mar:
How thousand gallant spirits came near and far,
With swords and targets, arrows, bows, and guns,
That all the troop to men of judgment, are
The God of Wars great never conquered sons,
The sport is manly, yet none bleed but beasts,
And last the victor on the vanquished feasts.
