The mellow autumn came, and with it came The promised party, to enjoy its sweets. The corn is cut, the manor full of game;The pointer ranges, and the sportsman beats In russet jacket;—lynx-like is his aim;Full grows his bag, and wonderful his feats. Ah, nut brown partridges! Ah, brilliant pheasants! And ah, ye poachers!—'Tis no sport for peasants.

Don Juan