[1] Sick In His Den, We Understand, The King Of Beasts Sent Out Command That Of His Vassals Every Sort Should Send Some Deputies To Court - With Promise Well To Treat Each Deputy And Suite; On Faith Of Lion, Duly Written, None Should Be Scratch'D, Much Less Be Bitten. The Royal Will Was Executed, And Some From Every Tribe Deputed; The Foxes, Only, Would Not Come. One Thus Explain'D Their Choice Of Home: - 'Of Those Who Seek The Court, We Learn, The Tracks Upon The Sand Have One Direction, And Not One Betokens A Return. This Fact Begetting Some Distrust, His Majesty At Present Must Excuse Us From His Great Levee. His Plighted Word Is Good, No Doubt; But While How Beasts Get In We See, We Do Not See How They Get Out.'