"Much like th' ore-fond, tormented Lover, / Whose Travels Scorns alone discover / To th' chased Stag? Their Dwellings bear / Same form, sad-fortun'd Both appear, / Wilderness round his Fancy shows, / Which wild, disorder'd Thoughts compose; / Hunted by Dogs each strong for Scent / (Grief, Rage, Despair) fierce, turbulent; / Whose Mouths cast Venome, from whose Eyes / Swift flaming Balls (as 'twere) surprise."
— Harington, John (1627-1700)
Whose Travels Scorns alone discover
To th' chased Stag? Their Dwellings bear
Same form, sad-fortun'd Both appear,
Wilderness round his Fancy shows,
Which wild, disorder'd Thoughts compose;
Hunted by Dogs each strong for Scent
(Grief, Rage, Despair) fierce, turbulent;
Whose Mouths cast Venome, from whose Eyes
Swift flaming Balls (as 'twere) surprise.
Those dreadful Horns resemble well
(Since sounding forth their mortal Knell)
Those sharp disdainful Checks that came
From his too coy, severer Dame:
Found terribler, more shrill beside,
Through Fancy's Eccho's multiply'd.
That frightful Huntsman's Glance, call'd View,
When through the Road or Lawn pursue,
Her Form conceiv'd condemning Face,
Which Lightning darts through every place.
That Shaft lodg'd in his Breast, Desire,
Now pointed seems with flame of Fire,
Which eats Life-spirits, blood feeds upon:
Then tip'd with Ice despairing grown
Full-blown with Sighs, imbost withall,
Through raging heat, near th' Funeral.
Thus, when (confounded Thoughts) sad Race,
So long maintain'd, th' unhappy Chase,
As faintest, gasping Hopes supply
With broken Breath, when 'midst the Cry,
No Comfort's cooler Stream relieving,
Nor Reason's Bay, at last help giving;
With Stag-like Fate he falling dyes,
Scorn's Triumph and Love's Sacrifice.