A Stag, by favour of a Vine,
  Which grew where suns most genial shine,
  And formed a thick and matted bower
  Which might have turned a summer shower,
  Was saved by ruinous assault.
  The hunters thought their dogs at fault,
  And called them off. In danger now no more
    The Stag, a thankless wretch and vile,
  Began to browse his benefactress o'er.
    The hunters listening the while,
&nb............