Long foremost in his master's grace,
Began through age his strength to lose.
One morning he a boar pursues
And catches; but his teeth, grown old,
The vigorous savage could not hold.
The Master storms. " Sir," says the Hound,
"If bad my teeth, my heart is sound.
Your wrath, I now can do no more,
Marks what you thought of me before."
Philetes! thou too well wilt see,
Why I address this tale to thee.
Source: Boothby - Phaedrus 5.10.
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