If I do prove her haggard,

Though that her jesses were my dear heart-strings,

I 'ld whistle her off and let her down the wind,

To prey at fortune.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Othello. Act iii. Sc. 3.

Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows;

While proudly riding o'er the azure realm

In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes,

Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm;

Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway,

That hush'd in grim repose expects his evening prey.

Thomas Gray (1716-1771): The Bard. II. 2, Line 9.

So, naturalists observe, a flea

Has smaller fleas that on him prey;

And these have smaller still to bite 'em;

And so proceed ad infinitum.

Jonathan Swift (1667-1745): Poetry, a Rhapsody.

For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey,

This pleasing anxious being e'er resign'd,

Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day,

Nor cast one longing ling'ring look behind?

Thomas Gray (1716-1771): Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Stanza 22.

Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey,

Where wealth accumulates, and men decay.

Princes and lords may flourish or may fade,—

A breath can make them, as a breath has made;

But a bold peasantry, their country's pride,

When once destroy'd, can never be supplied.

Oliver Goldsmith (1728-1774): The Deserted Village. Line 51.

A mighty hunter, and his prey was man.

Alexander Pope (1688-1744): Windsor Forest. Line 61.

The world is grown so bad,

That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 3.