Sir Robert,[2] Wearied By Will Pulteney'S Teasings, Who Interrupted Him In All His Leasings, Resolved That Will And He Should Meet No More, Full In His Face Bob Shuts The Council Door; Nor Lets Him Sit As Justice On The Bench, To Punish Thieves, Or Lash A Suburb Wench. Yet Still St. Stephen'S Chapel Open Lies For Will To Enter - What Shall I Advise? Ev'N Quit The House, For Thou Too Long Hast Sat In'T, Produce At Last Thy Dormant Ducal Patent; There Near Thy Master'S Throne In Shelter Placed, Let Will, Unheard By Thee, His Thunder Waste; Yet Still I Fear Your Work Is Done But Half, For While He Keeps His Pen You Are Not Safe. Hear An Old Fable, And A Dull One Too; It Bears A Moral When Applied To You. A Hare Had Long Escaped Pursuing Hounds, By Often Shifting Into Distant Grounds; Till, Finding All His Artifices Vain, To Save His Life He Leap'D Into The Main. But There, Alas! He Could No Safety Find, A Pack Of Dogfish Had Him In The Wind. He Scours Away; And, To Avoid The Foe, Descends For Shelter To The Shades Below: There Cerberus Lay Watching In His Den, (He Had Not Seen A Hare The Lord Knows When.) Out Bounced The Mastiff Of The Triple Head; Away The Hare With Double Swiftness Fled; Hunted From Earth, And Sea, And Hell, He Flies (Fear Lent Him Wings) For Safety To The Skies. How Was The Fearful Animal Distrest! Behold A Foe More Fierce Than All The Rest: Sirius, The Swiftest Of The Heavenly Pack, Fail'D But An Inch To Seize Him By The Back. He Fled To Earth, But First It Cost Him Dear; He Left His Scut Behind, And Half An Ear. Thus Was The Hare Pursued, Though Free From Guilt; Thus, Bob, Shall Thou Be Maul'D, Fly Where Thou Wilt. Then, Honest Robin, Of Thy Corpse Beware; Thou Art Not Half So Nimble As A Hare: Too Ponderous Is Thy Bulk To Mount The Sky; Nor Can You Go To Hell Before You Die. So Keen Thy Hunters, And Thy Scent So Strong, Thy Turns And Doublings Cannot Save Thee Long.[3]