"When panting virtue her last efforts made, You brought your Clio to the virgin's aid."

Clio, of course, refers to Addison's signatures in the "Spectator," consisting of the four letters composing the name of the Muse of History, used in alternation. We cannot coincide in Johnson's encomium. The allusion is, we think, at once indecent and obscure; and what, after all, does it say, but that Addison's papers aided the struggling cause of virtue?

In the same verses we find a fulsome and ridiculous preference of Addison to Shakspeare!

"In heaven he sings, on earth your Muse supplies The important loss, and heals our weeping eyes; Correctly great, she melts each flinty heart, With EQUAL GENIUS, but SUPERIOR ART."

Surely the force of falsehood and flattery can go no further.

It is a pleasure to turn from these small and shallow things to the "Chase," which, if not a great poem, is founded on a most poetical subject, and which, here and there, sparkles into fine fancy. Dr Johnson truly remarks, that Somerville "set a good example to men of his own class, by devoting a part of his time to elegant knowledge, and has shewn, by the subjects which his poetry has adorned, that it is practicable to be at once a skilful sportsman and a man of letters." But besides this purpose to be the poet—and hitherto he has been almost the sole poet of the squirearchy, as considered apart from the aristocracy—Somerville has the merit of being inspired by a genuine love for the subject. He writes directly from the testimony of his own eyes, and the impulses of his own heart. He has obviously had the mould of his poem suggested by Thomson's "Seasons," but it is the mould only; the thoughts and feelings which are poured into it are his own. He loves the giddy ride over stock and stone, hedge and petty precipice; the invigoration which the keen breath of autumn or winter, like that of a sturdy veteran, gives the animal spirits; the animated aspect of the "assembled jockeyship of half a province;" the wild music of hounds, and horns, and hollas, vieing with each other in mirth and loudness; the breathless interest of the start; the emulous pant of the coursers; the excitement of the moment when the fox appears; the sweeping tumult of the pursuit; the dreamlike rapidity with which five-barred gates are cleared, the yellow or naked woods are passed, and the stubble-ridges "swallowed up in the fierceness and rage" of the rushing steeds; the indifference of those engaged in the headlong sport to the danger or even the death of their companions; the lengthening and deepening howl of the hounds as they near their prey; the fierce silence of the dying victim; and the fiercer shout of victory which announces to the echoes that the brush is won, and the glorious (or inglorious) day's work is over;—all this Somerville loves, and has painted with considerable power. In the course of the poem, he sings also of the mysteries of the dog-kennel—pursues the blood-hound on his track of death—describes a stag-hunt in Windsor Forest—paints the fearful phenomena of canine madness—hunts the hare in a joyous spirit—and goes down after the otter into its watery recesses, and watches its divings and devious motions as with the eyes of a sea-eagle. And, besides, (here also imitating Thomson,) he is led away from the comparatively tame "Chase" of England to the more dangerous and more inspiring sports of other lands, where "the huntsmen are up in Arabia," in pursuit of the wolf, where the bear is bayed amidst forests dark as itself, where the leopard is snared by its own image in a mirror, where the lion falls roaring into the prepared pit, and where the "Chase" is pursued on a large scale by assembled princes amidst the jungles of India.

We doubt not, however, that, were a genuine poet of this age taking up the "Chase" as a subject for song, and availing himself of the accounts of recent travellers, themselves often true poets, such as Lloyd, Livingstone, Cumming Bruce, and Charles Boner, (see the admirable "Chamois Hunting in Bavaria" of the latter,) he would produce a strain incomparably higher than Somerville's. Wilson, at least, as we know from his "Christopher in his Sporting Jacket," and many other articles in Maga, was qualified, in part by nature and in part by extensive experience, to have written such a poem. Indeed, one sentence of his is superior to anything in the "Chase." Speaking of the charge of the cruelty of chasing such an insignificant animal as a fox, he says, "What though it be but a smallish, reddish-brown, sharp-nosed animal, with pricked-up ears, and passionately fond of poultry, that they pursue? After the first tallyho, reynard is rarely seen till he is run in upon—once, perhaps, in the whole run, skirting a wood, or crossing a common. It is an idea that is pursued on a whirlwind of horses, to a storm of canine music, worthy both of the largest lion that ever leaped among a band of Moors sleeping at midnight by an extinguished fire on the African sands." We do not answer for the humanity of this description, but it certainly seems to us to exhaust the subject of the chase, alike in its philosophy and its poetry.[1]

SOMERVILLE'S CHASE.

* * * * *

BOOK I.

THE ARGUMENT.

The subject proposed.—Address to his Royal Highness the Prince.—The origin of hunting.—The rude and unpolished manner of the first hunters.—Beasts at first hunted for food and sacrifice.—The grant made by God to man of the beasts, &c.—The regular manner of hunting first brought into this island by the Normans.—The best hounds and best horses bred here.—The advantage of this exercise to us, as islanders.—Address to gentlemen of estates.—Situation of the kennel and its several courts.—The diversion and employment of hounds in the kennel.—The different sorts of hounds for each different chase.— Description of a perfect hound.—Of sizing and sorting of hounds.—The middle-sized hound recommended.—Of the large, deep-mouthed hound for hunting the stag and otter.—Of the lime-hound; their use on the borders of England and Scotland.—A physical account of scents.—Of good and bad scenting days.—A short admonition to my brethren of the couples.

The Chase I sing, hounds, and their various breed, And no less various use. O thou Great Prince![2] Whom Cambria's towering hills proclaim their lord, Deign thou to hear my bold, instructive song. While grateful citizens with pompous show, Rear the triumphal arch, rich with the exploits Of thy illustrious house; while virgins pave Thy way with flowers, and, as the royal youth Passing they view, admire, and sigh in vain; While crowded theatres, too fondly proud _10 Of their exotic minstrels, and shrill pipes, The price of manhood, hail thee with a song, And airs soft-warbling; my hoarse-sounding horn Invites thee to the Chase, the sport of kings; Image of war, without its guilt. The Muse Aloft on wing shall soar, conduct with care Thy foaming courser o'er the steepy rock, Or on the river bank receive thee safe, Light-bounding o'er the wave, from shore to shore. Be thou our great protector, gracious youth! _20 And if in future times, some envious prince, Careless of right and guileful, should invade Thy Britain's commerce, or should strive in vain To wrest the balance from thy equal hand; Thy hunter-train, in cheerful green arrayed, (A band undaunted, and inured to toils,) Shall compass thee around, die at thy feet, Or hew thy passage through the embattled foe, And clear thy way to fame; inspired by thee The nobler chase of glory shall pursue _30 Through fire, and smoke, and blood, and fields of death. Nature, in her productions slow, aspires By just degrees to reach perfection's height: So mimic Art works leisurely, till Time Improve the piece, or wise Experience give The proper finishing. When Nimrod bold, That mighty hunter, first made war on beasts, And stained the woodland green with purple dye, New and unpolished was the huntsman's art; No stated rule, his wanton will his guide. _40 With clubs and stones, rude implements of war, He armed his savage bands, a multitude Untrained; of twining osiers formed, they pitch Their artless toils, then range the desert hills, And scour the plains below; the trembling herd Start at the unusual sound, and clamorous shout Unheard before; surprised alas! to find Man now their foe, whom erst they deemed their lord, But mild and gentle, and by whom as yet Secure they grazed. Death stretches o'er the plain _50 Wide-wasting, and grim slaughter red with blood: Urged on by hunger keen, they wound, they kill, Their rage licentious knows no bound; at last Incumbered with their spoils, joyful they bear Upon their shoulders broad, the bleeding prey. Part on their altars smokes a sacrifice To that all-gracious Power, whose bounteous hand Supports his wide creation; what remains On living coals they broil, inelegant Of taste, nor skilled as yet in nicer arts _60 Of pampered luxury. Devotion pure, And strong necessity, thus first began The chase of beasts: though bloody was the deed, Yet without guilt. For the green herb alone Unequal to sustain man's labouring race, Now every moving thing that lived on earth Was granted him for food. So just is Heaven, To give us in proportion to our wants. Or chance or industry in after-times Some few improvements made, but short as yet _70 Of due perfection. In this isle remote Our painted ancestors were slow to learn, To arms devote, of the politer arts Nor skilled nor studious; till from Neustria's[3] coasts Victorious William, to more decent rules Subdued our Saxon fathers, taught to speak The proper dialect, with horn and voice To cheer the busy hound, whose well-known cry His listening peers approve with joint acclaim. From him successive huntsmen learned to join _80 In bloody social leagues, the multitude Dispersed, to size, to sort their various tribes, To rear, feed, hunt, and discipline the pack. Hail, happy Britain! highly-favoured isle, And Heaven's peculiar care! To thee 'tis given To train the sprightly steed, more fleet than those Begot by winds, or the celestial breed That bore the great Pelides through the press Of heroes armed, and broke their crowded ranks; Which proudly neighing, with the sun begins _90 Cheerful his course; and ere his beams decline, Has measured half thy surface unfatigued. In thee alone, fair land of liberty! Is bred the perfect hound, in scent and speed As yet unrivalled, while in other climes Their virtue fails, a weak degenerate race. In vain malignant steams, and winter fogs Load the dull air, and hover round our coasts, The huntsman ever gay, robust, and bold, Defies the noxious vapour, and confides _100 In this delightful exercise, to raise His drooping head and cheer his heart with joy. Ye vigorous youths, by smiling Fortune blest With large demesnes, hereditary wealth, Heaped copious by your wise forefathers' care, Hear and attend! while I the means reveal To enjoy those pleasures, for the weak too strong, Too costly for the poor: to rein the steed Swift-stretching o'er the plain, to cheer the pack Opening in concerts of harmonious joy, _110 But breathing death. What though the gripe severe Of brazen-fisted Time, and slow disease Creeping through every vein, and nerve unstrung, Afflict my shattered frame, undaunted still, Fixed as a mountain ash, that braves the bolts Of angry Jove; though blasted, yet unfallen; Still can my soul in Fancy's mirror view Deeds glorious once, recal the joyous scene In all its splendours decked, o'er the full bowl Recount my triumphs past, urge others on _120 With hand and voice, and point the winding way: Pleased with that social sweet garrulity, The poor disbanded veteran's sole delight. First let the Kennel be the huntsman's care, Upon some little eminence erect, And fronting to the ruddy dawn; its courts On either hand wide opening to receive The sun's all-cheering beams, when mild he shines, And gilds the mountain tops. For much the pack (Roused from their dark alcoves) delight to stretch, _130 And bask in his invigorating ray: Warned by the streaming light and merry lark, Forth rush the jolly clan; with tuneful throats They carol loud, and in grand chorus joined Salute the new-born day. For not alone The vegetable world, but men and brutes Own his reviving influence, and joy At his approach. Fountain of light! if chance[4] Some envious cloud veil thy refulgent brow, In vain the Muses aid; untouched, unstrung, _140 Lies my mute harp, and thy desponding bard Sits darkly musing o'er the unfinished lay. Let no Corinthian pillars prop the dome, A vain expense, on charitable deeds Better disposed, to clothe the tattered wretch, Who shrinks beneath the blast, to feed the poor Pinched with afflictive want. For use, not state, Gracefully plain, let each apartment rise. O'er all let cleanliness preside, no scraps Bestrew the pavement, and no half-picked bones, _150 To kindle fierce debate, or to disgust That nicer sense, on which the sportsman's hope, And all his future triumphs must depend. Soon as the growling pack with eager joy Have lapped their smoking viands, morn or eve, From the full cistern lead the ductile streams, To wash thy court well-paved, nor spare thy pains, For much to health will cleanliness avail. Seek'st thou for hounds to climb the rocky steep, And brush the entangled covert, whose nice scent _160 O'er greasy fallows, and frequented roads Can pick the dubious way? Banish far off Each noisome stench, let no offensive smell Invade thy wide inclosure, but admit The nitrous air, and purifying breeze. Water and shade no less demand thy care: In a large square the adjacent field inclose, There plant in equal ranks the spreading elm, Or fragrant lime; most happy thy design, If at the bottom of thy spacious court, _170 A large canal fed by the crystal brook, From its transparent bosom shall reflect Downward thy structure and inverted grove. Here when the sun's too potent gleams annoy The crowded kennel, and the drooping pack, Restless and faint, loll their unmoistened tongues, And drop their feeble tails; to cooler shades Lead forth the panting tribe; soon shalt thou find The cordial breeze their fainting hearts revive: Tumultuous soon they plunge into the stream, _180 There lave their reeking sides, with greedy joy Gulp down the flying wave; this way and that From shore to shore they swim, while clamour loud And wild uproar torments the troubled flood: Then on the sunny bank they roll and stretch Their dripping limbs, or else in wanton rings Coursing around, pursuing and pursued, The merry multitude disporting play. But here with watchful and observant eye Attend their frolics, which too often end _190 In bloody broils and death. High o'er thy head Wave thy resounding whip, and with a voice Fierce-menacing o'errule the stern debate, And quench their kindling rage; for oft in sport Begun, combat ensues, growling they snarl, Then on their haunches reared, rampant they seize Each other's throats, with teeth and claws in gore Besmeared, they wound, they tear, till on the ground, Panting, half dead the conquered champion lies: Then sudden all the base ignoble crowd _200 Loud-clamouring seize the helpless worried wretch, And thirsting for his blood, drag different ways His mangled carcase on the ensanguined plain. O breasts of pity void! to oppress the weak, To point your vengeance at the friendless head, And with one mutual cry insult the fallen! Emblem too just of man's degenerate race. Others apart by native instinct led, Knowing instructor! 'mong the ranker grass Cull each salubrious plant, with bitter juice _210 Concoctive stored, and potent to allay Each vicious ferment. Thus the hand divine Of Providence, beneficent and kind To all His creatures, for the brutes prescribes A ready remedy, and is Himself Their great physician. Now grown stiff with age, And many a painful chase, the wise old hound Regardless of the frolic pack, attends His master's side, or slumbers at his ease Beneath the bending shade; there many a ring _220 Runs o'er in dreams; now on the doubtful foil Puzzles perplexed, or doubles intricate Cautious unfolds, then winged with all his speed, Bounds o'er the lawn to seize his panting prey: And in imperfect whimperings speaks his joy. A different hound for every different chase Select with judgment; nor the timorous hare O'ermatched destroy, but leave that vile offence To the mean, murderous, coursing crew; intent On blood and spoil. O blast their hopes, just Heaven! _230 And all their painful drudgeries repay With disappointment and severe remorse. But husband thou thy pleasures, and give scope To all her subtle play: by nature led A thousand shifts she tries; to unravel these The industrious beagle twists his waving tail, Through all her labyrinths pursues, and rings Her doleful knell. See there with countenance blithe, And with a courtly grin, the fawning hound Salutes thee cowering, his wide-opening nose _240 Upward he curls, and his large sloe-black eyes Melt in soft blandishments, and humble joy; His glossy skin, or yellow-pied, or blue, In lights or shades by Nature's pencil drawn, Reflects the various tints; his ears and legs Flecked here and there, in gay enamelled pride Rival the speckled pard; his rush-grown tail O'er his broad back bends in an ample arch; On shoulders clean, upright and firm he stands, His round cat foot, straight hams, and wide-spread thighs, _250 And his low-dropping chest, confess his speed, His strength, his wind, or on the steepy hill, Or far-extended plain; in every part So well proportioned, that the nicer skill Of Phidias himself can't blame thy choice. Of such compose thy pack. But here a mean Observe, nor the large hound prefer, of size Gigantic; he in the thick-woven covert Painfully tugs, or in the thorny brake Torn and embarrassed bleeds: but if too small, _260 The pigmy brood in every furrow swims; Moiled in the clogging clay, panting they lag Behind inglorious; or else shivering creep Benumbed and faint beneath the sheltering thorn. For hounds of middle size, active and strong, Will better answer all thy various ends, And crown thy pleasing labours with success. As some brave captain, curious and exact, By his fixed standard forms in equal ranks His gay battalion, as one man they move _270 Step after step, their size the same, their arms Far gleaming, dart the same united blaze: Reviewing generals his merit own; How regular! how just! and all his cares Are well repaid, if mighty George approve. So model thou thy pack, if honour touch Thy generous soul, and the world's just applause. But above all take heed, nor mix thy hounds Of different kinds; discordant sounds shall grate Thy ears offended, and a lagging line _280 Of babbling curs disgrace thy broken pack. But if the amphibious otter be thy chase, Or stately stag, that o'er the woodland reigns; Or if the harmonious thunder of the field Delight thy ravished ears; the deep-flewed hound Breed up with care, strong, heavy, slow, but sure, Whose ears down-hanging from his thick round head Shall sweep the morning dew, whose clanging voice Awake the mountain echo in her cell, And shake the forests: the bold talbot[6] kind _290 Of these the prime, as white as Alpine snows; And great their use of old. Upon the banks Of Tweed, slow winding through the vale, the seat Of war and rapine once, ere Britons knew The sweets of peace, or Anna's dread commands To lasting leagues the haughty rivals awed, There dwelt a pilfering race; well-trained and skilled In all the mysteries of theft, the spoil

Their only substance, feuds and war their sport: Not more expert in every fraudful art _300 The arch felon was of old, who by the tail Drew back his lowing prize: in vain his wiles, In vain the shelter of the covering rock, In vain the sooty cloud, and ruddy flames That issued from his mouth; for soon he paid His forfeit life: a debt how justly due To wronged Alcides, and avenging Heaven! Veiled in the shades of night they ford the stream,

Then prowling far and near, whate'er they seize Becomes their prey; nor flocks nor herds are safe, _310 Nor stalls protect the steer, nor strong barred doors Secure the favourite horse. Soon as the morn Reveals his wrongs, with ghastly visage wan The plundered owner stands, and from his lips A thousand thronging curses burst their way: He calls his stout allies, and in a line His faithful hound he leads, then with a voice That utters loud his rage, attentive cheers: Soon the sagacious brute, his curling tail

Flourished in air, low-bending plies around 320 His busy nose, the steaming vapour snuff Inquisitive, nor leaves one turf untried, Till conscious of the recent stains, his heart Beats quick; his snuffling nose, his active tail Attest his joy; then with deep opening mouth That makes the welkin tremble, he proclaims The audacious felon; foot by foot he marks His winding way, while all the listening crowd Applaud his reasonings. O'er the watery ford, Dry sandy heaths, and stony barren hill, 330 O'er beaten paths, with men and beasts distained, Unerring he pursues; till at the cot Arrived, and seizing by his guilty throat The caitiff' vile, redeems the captive prey: So exquisitely delicate his sense! Should some more curious sportsman here inquire, Whence this sagacity, this wondrous power Of tracing step by step, or man or brute?

What guide invisible points out their way, O'er the dank marsh, bleak hill, and sandy plain? _340 The courteous Muse shall the dark cause reveal. The blood that from the heart incessant rolls In many a crimson tide, then here and there In smaller rills disparted, as it flows Propelled, the serous particles evade Through the open pores, and with the ambient air Entangling mix. As fuming vapours rise, And hang upon the gently purling brook, There by the incumbent atmosphere compressed, The panting chase grows warmer as he flies, _350 And through the net-work of the skin perspires; Leaves a long-streaming trail behind, which by The cooler air condensed, remains, unless By some rude storm dispersed, or rarefied By the meridian sun's intenser heat. To every shrub the warm effluvia cling, Hang on the grass, impregnate earth and skies. With nostrils opening wide, o'er hill, o'er dale, The vigorous hounds pursue, with every breath Inhale the grateful steam, quick pleasures sting _360 Their tingling nerves, while they their thanks repay, And in triumphant melody confess The titillating joy. Thus on the air Depend the hunter's hopes. When ruddy streaks At eve forebode a blustering stormy day, Or lowering clouds blacken the mountain's brow, When nipping frosts, and the keen biting blasts Of the dry parching east, menace the trees With tender blossoms teeming, kindly spare Thy sleeping pack, in their warm beds of straw _370 Low-sinking at their ease; listless they shrink Into some dark recess, nor hear thy voice Though oft invoked; or haply if thy call Rouse up the slumbering tribe, with heavy eyes Glazed, lifeless, dull, downward they drop their tails Inverted; high on their bent backs erect Their pointed bristles stare, or 'mong the tufts Of ranker weeds, each stomach-healing plant Curious they crop, sick, spiritless, forlorn. These inauspicious days, on other cares _380 Employ thy precious hours; the improving friend With open arms embrace, and from his lips Glean science, seasoned with good-natured wit. But if the inclement skies and angry Jove Forbid the pleasing intercourse, thy books Invite thy ready hand, each sacred page Rich with the wise remarks of heroes old. Converse familiar with the illustrious dead; With great examples of old Greece or Rome Enlarge thy free-born heart, and bless kind Heaven, _390 That Britain yet enjoys dear Liberty, That balm of life, that sweetest blessing, cheap Though purchased with our blood. Well-bred, polite, Credit thy calling. See! how mean, how low, The bookless sauntering youth, proud of the scut That dignifies his cap, his flourished belt, And rusty couples jingling by his side. Be thou of other mould; and know that such Transporting pleasures were by Heaven ordained Wisdom's relief, and Virtue's great reward. _400

* * * * *

BOOK II.

THE ARGUMENT.

Of the power of instinct in brutes.—Two remarkable instances in the hunting of the roebuck, and in the hare going to seat in the morning.—Of the variety of seats or forms of the hare, according to the change of the season, weather, or wind.—Description of the hare-hunting in all its parts, interspersed with rules to be observed by those who follow that chase.—Transition to the Asiatic way of hunting, particularly the magnificent manner of the Great Mogul, and other Tartarian princes, taken from Monsieur Bernier, and the history of Gengiskan the Great.—Concludes with a short reproof of tyrants and oppressors of mankind.

Nor will it less delight the attentive sage To observe that instinct, which unerring guides The brutal race, which mimics reason's lore And oft transcends: heaven-taught, the roe-buck swift Loiters at ease before the driving pack And mocks their vain pursuit, nor far he flies But checks his ardour, till the steaming scent That freshens on the blade, provokes their rage. Urged to their speed, his weak deluded foes

Soon flag fatigued; strained to excess each nerve, _10 Each slackened sinew fails; they pant, they foam; Then o'er the lawn he bounds, o'er the high hills Stretches secure, and leaves the scattered crowd To puzzle in the distant vale below. 'Tis instinct that directs the jealous hare To choose her soft abode: with step reversed She forms the doubling maze; then, ere the morn Peeps through the clouds, leaps to her close recess. As wand'ring shepherds on the Arabian plains

No settled residence observe, but shift _20 Their moving camp, now, on some cooler hill With cedars crowned, court the refreshing breeze; And then, below, where trickling streams distil From some penurious source, their thirst allay, And feed their fainting flocks: so the wise hares Oft quit their seats, lest some more curious eye Should mark their haunts, and by dark treacherous wiles Plot their destruction; or perchance in hopes

Of plenteous forage, near the ranker mead, Or matted blade, wary, and close they sit. _30 When spring shines forth, season of love and joy, In the moist marsh, 'mong beds of rushes hid, They cool their boiling blood: when Summer suns Bake the cleft earth, to thick wide-waving fields Of corn full-grown, they lead their helpless young: But when autumnal torrents, and fierce rains Deluge the vale, in the dry crumbling bank Their forms they delve, and cautiously avoid

The dripping covert: yet when Winter's cold Their limbs benumbs, thither with speed returned 40 In the long grass they skulk, or shrinking creep Among the withered leaves, thus changing still, As fancy prompts them, or as food invites. But every season carefully observed, The inconstant winds, the fickle element, The wise experienced huntsman soon may find His subtle, various game, nor waste in vain His tedious hours, till his impatient hounds With disappointment vexed, each springing lark Babbling pursue, far scattered o'er the fields. 50 Now golden Autumn from her open lap Her fragrant bounties showers; the fields are shorn; Inwardly smiling, the proud farmer views The rising pyramids that grace his yard, And counts his large increase; his barns are stored, And groaning staddles bend beneath their load. All now is free as air, and the gay pack In the rough bristly stubbles range unblamed; No widow's tears o'erflow, no secret curse Swells in the farmer's breast, which his pale lips 60 Trembling conceal, by his fierce landlord awed: But courteous now he levels every fence, Joins in the common cry, and halloos loud, Charmed with the rattling thunder of the field. Oh bear me, some kind Power invisible! To that extended lawn, where the gay court View the swift racers, stretching to the goal; Games more renowned, and a far nobler train, Than proud Elean fields could boast of old. Oh! were a Theban lyre not wanting here, 70 And Pindar's voice, to do their merit right! Or to those spacious plains, where the strained eye In the wide prospect lost, beholds at last Sarum's proud spire, that o'er the hills ascends, And pierces through the clouds. Or to thy downs, Fair Cotswold, where the well-breathed beagle climbs, With matchless speed, thy green aspiring brow,

And leaves the lagging multitude behind. Hail, gentle Dawn! mild blushing goddess, hail! Rejoiced I see thy purple mantle spread 80 O'er half the skies, gems pave thy radiant way, And orient pearls from every shrub depend. Farewell, Cleora; here deep sunk in down Slumber secure, with happy dreams amused, Till grateful steams shall tempt thee to receive Thy early meal, or thy officious maids, The toilet placed, shall urge thee to perform The important work. Me other joys invite, The horn sonorous calls, the pack awaked Their matins chant, nor brook my long delay. 90 My courser hears their voice; see there with ears And tail erect, neighing he paws the ground; Fierce rapture kindles in his reddening eyes, And boils in every vein. As captive boys Cowed by the ruling rod, and haughty frowns Of pedagogues severe, from their hard tasks, If once dismissed, no limits can contain The tumult raised within their little breasts, But give a loose to all their frolic play:

So from their kennel rush the joyous pack; 100 A thousand wanton gaieties express Their inward ecstasy, their pleasing sport Once more indulged, and liberty restored. The rising sun that o'er the horizon peeps, As many colours from their glossy skins Beaming reflects, as paint the various bow When April showers descend. Delightful scene! Where all around is gay, men, horses, dogs, And in each smiling countenance appears Fresh-blooming health, and universal joy. 110 Huntsman, lead on! behind the clustering pack Submiss attend, hear with respect thy whip Loud-clanging, and thy harsher voice obey:

Spare not the straggling cur, that wildly roves; But let thy brisk assistant on his back Imprint thy just resentments; let each lash Bite to the quick, till howling he return And whining creep amid the trembling crowd. Here on this verdant spot, where nature kind, With double blessings crowns the farmer's hopes; _120 Where flowers autumnal spring, and the rank mead Affords the wandering hares a rich repast, Throw off thy ready pack. See, where they spread And range around, and dash the glittering dew. If some stanch hound, with his authentic voice, Avow the recent trail, the jostling tribe Attend his call, then with one mutual cry The welcome news confirm, and echoing hills Repeat the pleasing tale. See how they thread

The brakes, and up yon furrow drive along! 130 But quick they back recoil, and wisely check Their eager haste; then o'er the fallowed ground How leisurely they work, and many a pause The harmonious concert breaks; till more assured With joy redoubled the low valleys ring. What artful labyrinths perplex their way! Ah! there she lies; how close! she pants, she doubts If now she lives; she trembles as she sits, With horror seized. The withered grass that clings Around her head, of the same russet hue 140 Almost deceived my sight, had not her eyes With life full-beaming her vain wiles betrayed. At distance draw thy pack, let all be hushed, No clamour loud, no frantic joy be heard, Lest the wild hound run gadding o'er the plain Untractable, nor hear thy chiding voice. Now gently put her off; see how direct To her known mews she flies! Here, huntsman, bring (But without hurry) all thy jolly hounds,

And calmly lay them in. How low they stoop, _150 And seem to plough the ground! then all at once With greedy nostrils snuff the fuming steam That glads their fluttering hearts. As winds let loose From the dark caverns of the blustering god, They burst away, and sweep the dewy lawn. Hope gives them wings while she's spurred on by fear. The welkin rings; men, dogs, hills, rocks, and woods In the full concert join. Now, my brave youths, Stripped for the chase, give all your souls to joy!

See how their coursers, than the mountain roe _160 More fleet, the verdant carpet skim, thick clouds Snorting they breathe, their shining hoofs scarce print The grass unbruised; with emulation fired They strain to lead the field, top the barred gate, O'er the deep ditch exulting bound, and brush The thorny-twining hedge: the riders bend O'er their arched necks; with steady hands, by turns Indulge their speed, or moderate their rage.

Where are their sorrows, disappointments, wrongs, Vexations, sickness, cares? All, all are gone, 170 And with the panting winds lag far behind. Huntsman! her gait observe, if in wide rings She wheel her mazy way, in the same round Persisting still, she'll foil the beaten track. But if she fly, and with the favouring wind Urge her bold course; less intricate thy task: Push on thy pack. Like some poor exiled wretch The frighted chase leaves her late dear abodes, O'er plains remote she stretches far away, Ah! never to return! for greedy Death 180 Hovering exults, secure to seize his prey. Hark! from yon covert, where those towering oaks Above the humble copse aspiring rise, What glorious triumphs burst in every gale Upon our ravished ears! The hunters shout, The clanging horns swell their sweet-winding notes, The pack wide-opening load the trembling air With various melody; from tree to tree

The propagated cry redoubling bounds, And winged zephyrs waft the floating joy 190 Through all the regions near: afflictive birch No more the school-boy dreads, his prison broke, Scampering he flies, nor heeds his master's call; The weary traveller forgets his road, And climbs the adjacent hill; the ploughman leaves The unfinished furrow; nor his bleating flocks Are now the shepherd's joy; men, boys, and girls Desert the unpeopled village; and wild crowds Spread o'er the plain, by the sweet frenzy seized. Look, how she pants! and o'er yon opening glade 200 Slips glancing by; while, at the further end, The puzzling pack unravel wile by wile, Maze within maze. The covert's utmost bound Slily she skirts; behind them cautious creeps, And in that very track, so lately stained By all the steaming crowd, seems to pursue The foe she flies. Let cavillers deny That brutes have reason; sure 'tis something more, 'Tis Heaven directs, and stratagems inspires, Beyond the short extent of human thought. 210 But hold—I see her from the covert break; Sad on yon little eminence she sits; Intent she listens with one ear erect, Pond'ring, and doubtful what new course to take, And how to escape the fierce blood-thirsty crew, That still urge on, and still in vollies loud, Insult her woes, and mock her sore distress. As now in louder peals, the loaded winds Bring on the gathering storm, her fears prevail; And o'er the plain, and o'er the mountain's ridge, 220 Away she flies; nor ships with wind and tide, And all their canvas wings, scud half so fast. Once more, ye jovial train, your courage try, And each clean courser's speed. We scour along, In pleasing hurry and confusion tossed; Oblivion to be wished. The patient pack Hang on the scent unwearied, up they climb, And ardent we pursue; our labouring steeds We press, we gore; till once the summit gained, Painfully panting, there we breathe a while; 230 Then like a foaming torrent, pouring down Precipitant, we smoke along the vale. Happy the man, who with unrivalled speed Can pass his fellows, and with pleasure view The struggling pack; how in the rapid course Alternate they preside, and jostling push To guide the dubious scent; how giddy youth Oft babbling errs, by wiser age reproved; How, niggard of his strength, the wise old hound Hangs in the rear, till some important point 240 Rouse all his diligence, or till the chase Sinking he finds; then to the head he springs, With thirst of glory fired, and wins the prize. Huntsman, take heed; they stop in full career. Yon crowding flocks, that at a distance graze, Have haply soiled the turf. See! that old hound, How busily he works, but dares not trust His doubtful sense; draw yet a wider ring. Hark! now again the chorus fills; as bells Silenced a while at once their peal renew, 250 And high in air the tuneful thunder rolls. See, how they toss, with animated rage Recovering all they lost!—That eager haste Some doubling wile foreshews.—Ah! yet once more They're checked—hold back with speed—on either hand They nourish round—even yet persist—'Tis right, Away they spring; the rustling stubbles bend Beneath the driving storm. Now the poor chase Begins to flag, to her last shifts reduced. From brake to brake she flies, and visits all 260 Her well-known haunts, where once she ranged secure, With love and plenty bless'd. See! there she goes, She reels along, and by her gait betrays Her inward weakness. See, how black she looks! The sweat that clogs the obstructed pores, scarce leaves A languid scent. And now in open view See, see, she flies! each eager hound exerts His utmost speed, and stretches every nerve. How quick she turns! their gaping jaws eludes, And yet a moment lives; till round inclosed 270 By all the greedy pack, with infant screams She yields her breath, and there reluctant dies. So when the furious Bacchanals assailed Thracian Orpheus, poor ill-fated bard! Loud was the cry; hills, woods, and Hebrus' banks, Returned their clamorous rage; distressed he flies, Shifting from place to place, but flies in vain; For eager they pursue, till panting, faint, By noisy multitudes o'erpowered, he sinks, To the relentless crowd a bleeding prey. 280 The huntsman now, a deep incision made, Shakes out with hands impure, and dashes down Her reeking entrails, and yet quivering heart. These claim the pack, the bloody perquisite For all their toils. Stretched on the ground she lies, A mangled corse; in her dim glaring eyes Cold death exults, and stiffens every limb. Awed by the threatening whip, the furious hounds Around her bay; or at their master's foot, Each happy favourite courts his kind applause, 290 With humble adulation cowering low. All now is joy. With cheeks full-blown they wind Her solemn dirge, while the loud-opening pack The concert swell, and hills and dales return The sadly-pleasing sounds. Thus the poor hare, A puny, dastard animal, but versed In subtle wiles, diverts the youthful train. But if thy proud, aspiring soul disdains So mean a prey, delighted with the pomp, Magnificence and grandeur of the chase; 300 Hear what the Muse from faithful records sings. Why on the banks of Gemna, Indian stream, Line within line, rise the pavilions proud, Their silken streamers waving in the wind? Why neighs the warrior horse? from tent to tent, Why press in crowds the buzzing multitude? Why shines the polished helm, and pointed lance, This way and that far-beaming o'er the plain? Nor Visapour nor Golconda rebel; Nor the great Sophy, with his numerous host 310 Lays waste the provinces; nor glory fires To rob, and to destroy, beneath the name And specious guise of war. A nobler cause Calls Aurengzebe[7] to arms. No cities sacked, No mother's tears, no helpless orphan's cries, No violated leagues, with sharp remorse Shall sting the conscious victor: but mankind Shall hail him good and just. For 'tis on beasts He draws his vengeful sword; on beasts of prey Full-fed with human gore. See, see, he comes! 320 Imperial Delhi opening wide her gates, Pours out her thronging legions, bright in arms, And all the pomp of war. Before them sound Clarions and trumpets, breathing martial airs, And bold defiance. High upon his throne, Borne on the back of his proud elephant, Sits the great chief of Tamur's glorious race: Sublime he sits, amid the radiant blaze Of gems and gold. Omrahs about him crowd, And rein the Arabian steed, and watch his nod: 330 And potent Rajahs, who themselves preside O'er realms of wide extent; but here submiss Their homage pay, alternate kings and slaves. Next these, with prying eunuchs girt around, The fair sultanas of his court; a troop Of chosen beauties, but with care concealed From each intrusive eye; one look is death. A cruel Eastern law! (had kings a power But equal to their wild tyrannic will) To rob us of the sun's all-cheering ray, 340 Were less severe. The vulgar close the march, Slaves and artificers; and Delhi mourns Her empty and depopulated streets. Now at the camp arrived, with stern review, Through groves of spears, from file to file he darts His sharp experienced eye; their order marks, Each in his station ranged, exact and firm, Till in the boundless line his sight is lost. Not greater multitudes in arms appeared, On these extended plains, when Ammon's[8] son 350 With mighty Porus in dread battle joined, The vassal world the prize. Nor was that host More numerous of old, which the great king Poured out on Greece from all the unpeopled East; That bridged the Hellespont from shore to shore, And drank the rivers dry. Meanwhile in troops The busy hunter-train mark out the ground, A wide circumference; full many a league In compass round; woods, rivers, hills, and plains, Large provinces; enough to gratify 360 Ambition's highest aim, could reason bound Man's erring will. Now sit in close divan The mighty chiefs of this prodigious host. He from the throne high-eminent presides, Gives out his mandates proud, laws of the chase, From ancient records drawn. With reverence low, And prostrate at his feet, the chiefs receive His irreversible decrees, from which To vary is to die. Then his brave bands Each to his station leads; encamping round, 370 Till the wide circle is completely formed; Where decent order reigns, what these command, Those execute with speed, and punctual care; In all the strictest discipline of war: As if some watchful foe, with bold insult Hung lowering o'er their camp. The high resolve, That flies on wings, through all the encircling line, Each motion steers, and animates the whole. So by the sun's attractive power controlled, The planets in their spheres roll round his orb, 380 On all he shines, and rules the great machine. Ere yet the morn dispels the fleeting mists, The signal given by the loud trumpet's voice, Now high in air the imperial standard waves, Emblazoned rich with gold, and glittering gems; And like a sheet of fire, through the dun gloom Streaming meteorous. The soldiers' shouts, And all the brazen instuments of war, With mutual clamor, and united din, Fill the large concave. While from camp to camp, 390 They catch the varied sounds, floating in air, Round all the wide circumference, tigers fell Shrink at the noise; deep in his gloomy den The lion starts, and morsels yet unchewed Drop from his trembling jaws. Now all at once Onward they march embattled, to the sound Of martial harmony; fifes, cornets, drums, That rouse the sleepy soul to arms, and bold Heroic deeds. In parties here and there Detached o'er hill and dale, the hunters range 400 Inquisitive; strong dogs that match in fight The boldest brute, around their masters wait, A faithful guard. No haunt unsearched, they drive From every covert, and from every den, The lurking savages. Incessant shouts Re-echo through the woods, and kindling fires Gleam from the mountain tops; the forest seems One mingling blaze: like flocks of sheep they fly Before the flaming brand: fierce lions, pards, Boars, tigers, bears, and wolves; a dreadful crew 410 Of grim blood-thirsty foes: growling along, They stalk indignant; but fierce vengeance still Hangs pealing on their rear, and pointed spears Present immediate death. Soon as the night Wrapt in her sable veil forbids the chase, They pitch their tents, in even ranks around The circling camp. The guards are placed, and fires At proper distances ascending rise, And paint the horizon with their ruddy light. So round some island's shore of large extent, 420 Amid the gloomy horrors of the night, The billows breaking on the pointed rocks, Seem all one flame, and the bright circuit wide Appears a bulwark of surrounding fire. What dreadful bowlings, and what hideous roar, Disturb those peaceful shades where erst the bird That glads the night, had cheered the listening groves With sweet complainings! Through the silent gloom Oft they the guards assail; as oft repelled They fly reluctant, with hot-boiling rage 430 Stung to the quick, and mad with wild despair. Thus day by day, they still the chase renew; At night encamp; till now in straiter bounds The circle lessens, and the beasts perceive The wall that hems them in on every side. And now their fury bursts, and knows no mean; From man they turn, and point their ill-judged rage Against their fellow brutes. With teeth and claws The civil war begins; grappling they tear. Lions on tigers prey, and bears on wolves: 440 Horrible discord! till the crowd behind Shouting pursue, and part the bloody fray. At once their wrath subsides; tame as the lamb The lion hangs his head, the furious pard, Cowed and subdued, flies from the face of man, Nor bears one glance of his commanding eye. So abject is a tyrant in distress! At last within the narrow plain confined, A listed field, marked out for bloody deeds, An amphitheatre more glorious far 450 Than ancient Rome could boast, they crowd in heaps, Dismayed, and quite appalled. In meet array Sheathed in refulgent arms, a noble band Advance; great lords of high imperial blood, Early resolved to assert their royal race, And prove by glorious deeds their valour's growth Mature, ere yet the callow down has spread Its curling shade. On bold Arabian steeds With decent pride they sit, that fearless hear The lion's dreadful roar; and down the rock 460 Swift-shooting plunge, or o'er the mountain's ridge Stretching along, the greedy tiger leave Panting behind. On foot their faithful slaves With javelins armed attend; each watchful eye Fixed on his youthful care, for him alone He fears, and to redeem his life, unmoved Would lose his own. The mighty Aurengzebe, From his high-elevated throne, beholds His blooming race; revolving in his mind What once he was, in his gay spring of life, 470 When vigour strung his nerves. Parental joy Melts in his eyes, and flushes in his cheeks. Now the loud trumpet sounds a charge. The shouts Of eager hosts, through all the circling line, And the wild bowlings of the beasts within Rend wide the welkin, flights of arrows, winged With death, and javelins launched from every arm, Gall sore the brutal bands, with many a wound Gored through and through. Despair at last prevails, When fainting nature shrinks, and rouses all 480 Their drooping courage. Swelled with furious rage, Their eyes dart fire; and on the youthful band They rush implacable. They their broad shields Quick interpose; on each devoted head Their flaming falchions, as the bolts of Jove, Descend unerring. Prostrate on the ground The grinning monsters lie, and their foul gore Defiles the verdant plain. Nor idle stand The trusty slaves; with pointed spears they pierce Through their tough hides; or at their gaping mouths 490 An easier passage find. The king of brutes In broken roarings breathes his last; the bear Grumbles in death; nor can his spotted skin, Though sleek it shine, with varied beauties gay, Save the proud pard from unrelenting fate. The battle bleeds, grim Slaughter strides along, Glutting her greedy jaws, grins o'er her prey. Men, horses, dogs, fierce beasts of every kind, A strange promiscuous carnage, drenched in blood, And heaps on heaps amassed. What yet remain 500 Alive, with vain assault contend to break The impenetrable line. Others, whom fear Inspires with self-preserving wiles, beneath The bodies of the slain for shelter creep. Aghast they fly, or hide their heads dispersed. And now perchance (had Heaven but pleased) the work Of death had been complete; and Aurengzebe By one dread frown extinguished half their race. When lo! the bright sultanas of his court Appear, and to his ravished eyes display 510 Those charms, but rarely to the day revealed. Lowly they bend, and humbly sue, to save The vanquished host. What mortal can deny When suppliant beauty begs? At his command Opening to right and left, the well-trained troops Leave a large void for their retreating foes. Away they fly, on wings of fear upborne, To seek on distant hills their late abodes. Ye proud oppressors, whose vain hearts exult In wantonness of power, 'gainst the brute race, 520 Fierce robbers like yourselves, a guiltless war Wage uncontrolled: here quench your thirst of blood: But learn from Aurengzebe to spare mankind.

BOOK III.

THE ARGUMENT.

Of King Edgar and his imposing a tribute of wolves' heads upon the kings of Wales: from hence a transition to fox-hunting, which is described in all its parts.—Censure of an over-numerous pack.—Of the several engines to destroy foxes, and other wild beasts.—The steel-trap described, and the manner of using it.—Description of the pitfall for the lion; and another for the elephant.—The ancient way of hunting the tiger with a mirror.—The Arabian manner of hunting the wild boar.—Description of the royal stag-chase at Windsor Forest.—Concludes with an address to his Majesty, and an eulogy upon mercy.

In Albion's isle when glorious Edgar reigned, He wisely provident, from her white cliffs Launched half her forests, and with numerous fleets Covered his wide domain: there proudly rode Lord of the deep, the great prerogative Of British monarchs. Each invader bold, Dane and Norwegian, at a distance gazed, And disappointed, gnashed his teeth in vain. He scoured the seas, and to remotest shores With swelling sails the trembling corsair fled. 10 Rich commerce flourished; and with busy oars Dashed the resounding surge. Nor less at land His royal cares; wise, potent, gracious prince! His subjects from their cruel foes he saved, And from rapacious savages their flocks. Cambria's proud kings (though with reluctance) paid Their tributary wolves; head after head, In full account, till the woods yield no more, And all the ravenous race extinct is lost. In fertile pastures, more securely grazed 20 The social troops; and soon their large increase With curling fleeces whitened all the plains. But yet, alas! the wily fox remained, A subtle, pilfering foe, prowling around 24 In midnight shades, and wakeful to destroy. In the full fold, the poor defenceless lamb, Seized by his guileful arts, with sweet warm blood Supplies a rich repast. The mournful ewe, Her dearest treasure lost, through the dun night Wanders perplexed, and darkling bleats in vain: 30 While in the adjacent bush, poor Philomel, (Herself a parent once, till wanton churls Despoiled her nest) joins in her loud laments, With sweeter notes, and more melodious woe. For these nocturnal thieves, huntsman, prepare Thy sharpest vengeance. Oh! how glorious 'tis To right the oppressed, and bring the felon vile To just disgrace! Ere yet the morning peep, Or stars retire from the first blush of day, With thy far-echoing voice alarm thy pack, 40 And rouse thy bold compeers. Then to the copse, Thick with entangling grass, or prickly furze, With silence lead thy many-coloured hounds, In all their beauty's pride. See! how they range Dispersed, how busily this way and that, They cross, examining with curious nose Each likely haunt. Hark! on the drag I hear Their doubtful notes, preluding to a cry More nobly full, and swelled with every mouth. As straggling armies at the trumpet's voice, 50 Press to their standard; hither all repair, And hurry through the woods; with hasty step Bustling, and full of hope; now driven on heaps They push, they strive; while from his kennel sneaks The conscious villain. See! he skulks along, Sleek at the shepherd's cost, and plump with meals Purloined. So thrive the wicked here below. Though high his brush he bear, though tipped with white It gaily shine; yet ere the sun declined Recall the shades of night, the pampered rogue 60 Shall rue his fate reversed; and at his heels Behold the just avenger, swift to seize His forfeit head, and thirsting for his blood. Heavens! what melodious strains! how beat our hearts Big with tumultuous joy! the loaded gales Breathe harmony; and as the tempest drives From wood to wood, through every dark recess The forest thunders, and the mountains shake. The chorus swells; less various, and less sweet The trilling notes, when in those very groves, 70 The feathered choristers salute the spring, And every bush in concert joins; or when The master's hand, in modulated air, Bids the loud organ breathe, and all the powers Of music in one instrument combine, An universal minstrelsy. And now In vain each earth he tries, the doors are barred Impregnable, nor is the covert safe; He pants for purer air. Hark! what loud shouts Re-echo through the groves! he breaks away, 80 Shrill horns proclaim his flight. Each straggling hound Strains o'er the lawn to reach the distant pack. 'Tis triumph all and joy. Now, my brave youths, Now give a loose to the clean generous steed; Flourish the whip, nor spare the galling spur; But in the madness of delight, forget Your fears. Far o'er the rocky hills we range, And dangerous our course; but in the brave True courage never fails. In vain the stream In foaming eddies whirls; in vain the ditch 90 Wide-gaping threatens death. The craggy steep Where the poor dizzy shepherd crawls with care, And clings to every twig, gives us no pain; But down we sweep, as stoops the falcon bold To pounce his prey. Then up the opponent hill, By the swift motion slung, we mount aloft: So ships in winter-seas now sliding sink Adown the steepy wave, then tossed on high Ride on the billows, and defy the storm. What lengths we pass! where will the wandering chase 100 Lead us bewildered! smooth as the swallows skim The new-shorn mead, and far more swift we fly. See my brave pack! how to the head they press, Jostling in close array; then more diffuse Obliquely wheel, while from their opening mouths The vollied thunder breaks. So when the cranes Their annual voyage steer, with wanton wing Their figure oft they change, and their loud clang From cloud to cloud rebounds. How far behind The hunter-crew, wide straggling o'er the plain! 110 The panting courser now with trembling nerves Begins to reel; urged by the goring spur, Makes many a faint effort: he snorts, he foams, The big round drops run trickling down his sides, With sweat and blood distained. Look back and view The strange confusion of the vale below, Where sour vexation reigns; see yon poor jade, In vain the impatient rider frets and swears, With galling spurs harrows his mangled sides; He can no more: his stiff unpliant limbs 120 Rooted in earth, unmoved and fixed he stands, For every cruel curse returns a groan, And sobs, and faints, and dies. Who without grief Can view that pampered steed, his master's joy, His minion, and his daily care, well clothed, Well fed with every nicer cate; no cost, No labour spared; who, when the flying chase Broke from the copse, without a rival led The numerous train: now a sad spectacle Of pride brought low, and humbled insolence, 130 Drove like a panniered ass, and scourged along. While these with loosened reins, and dangling heels, Hang on their reeling palfreys, that scarce bear Their weights; another in the treacherous bog Lies floundering half engulfed. What biting thoughts Torment the abandoned crew! Old age laments His vigour spent: the tall, plump, brawny youth Curses his cumbrous bulk; and envies now The short Pygmean race, he whilom kenn'd With proud insulting leer. A chosen few 140 Alone the sport enjoy, nor droop beneath Their pleasing toils. Here, huntsman, from this height Observe yon birds of prey; if I can judge, 'Tis there the villain lurks; they hover round And claim him as their own. Was I not right? See! there he creeps along; his brush he drags, And sweeps the mire impure; from his wide jaws His tongue unmoistened hangs; symptoms too sure Of sudden death. Ha! yet he flies, nor yields To black despair. But one loose more, and all 150 His wiles are vain. Hark! through yon village now The rattling clamour rings. The barns, the cots And leafless elms return the joyous sounds. Through every homestall, and through every yard, His midnight walks, panting, forlorn, he flies; Through every hole he sneaks, through every jakes Plunging he wades besmeared, and fondly hopes In a superior stench to lose his own: But faithful to the track, the unerring hounds With peals of echoing vengeance close pursue. 160 And now distressed, no sheltering covert near, Into the hen-roost creeps, whose walls with gore Distained attest his guilt. There, villain, there Expect thy fate deserved. And soon from thence The pack inquisitive, with clamour loud, Drag out their trembling prize; and on his blood With greedy transport feast. In bolder notes Each sounding horn proclaims the felon dead: And all the assembled village shouts for joy. The farmer who beholds his mortal foe 170 Stretched at his feet, applauds the glorious deed, And grateful calls us to a short repast! In the full glass the liquid amber smiles, Our native product. And his good old mate With choicest viands heaps the liberal board, To crown our triumphs, and reward our toils. Here must the instructive Muse (but with respect) Censure that numerous pack, that crowd of state, With which the vain profusion of the great Covers the lawn, and shakes the trembling copse. 180 Pompous incumbrance! A magnificence Useless, vexatious! For the wily fox, Safe in the increasing number of his foes, Kens well the great advantage: slinks behind And slily creeps through the same beaten track, And hunts them step by step; then views escaped With inward ecstasy, the panting throng In their own footsteps puzzled, foiled and lost. So when proud Eastern kings summon to arms Their gaudy legions, from far distant climes 190 They flock in crowds, unpeopling half a world: But when the day of battle calls them forth To charge the well-trained foe, a band compact Of chosen veterans; they press blindly on, In heaps confused, by their own weapons fall, A smoking carnage scattered o'er the plain. Nor hounds alone this noxious brood destroy: The plundered warrener full many a wile Devises to entrap his greedy foe, Fat with nocturnal spoils. At close of day, 200 With silence drags his trail; then from the ground Pares thin the close-grazed turf, there with nice hand Covers the latent death, with curious springs Prepared to fly at once, whene'er the tread Of man or beast unwarily shall press The yielding surface. By the indented steel With gripe tenacious held, the felon grins, And struggles, but in vain: yet oft 'tis known, When every art has failed, the captive fox Has shared the wounded joint, and with a limb 210 Compounded for his life. But if perchance In the deep pitfall plunged, there's no escape; But unreprieved he dies, and bleached in air The jest of clowns, his reeking carcase hangs. Of these are various kinds; not even the king Of brutes evades this deep devouring grave: But by the wily African betrayed, Heedless of fate, within its gaping jaws Expires indignant. When the orient beam With blushes paints the dawn; and all the race 220 Carnivorous, with blood full-gorged, retire Into their darksome cells, there satiate snore O'er dripping offals, and the mangled limbs Of men and beasts; the painful forester 224 Climbs the high hills, whose proud aspiring tops, With the tall cedar crowned, and taper fir, Assail the clouds. There 'mong the craggy rocks, And thickets intricate, trembling he views His footsteps in the sand; the dismal road And avenue to death. Hither he calls 230 His watchful bands; and low into the ground A pit they sink, full many a fathom deep. Then in the midst a column high is reared, The butt of some fair tree; upon whose top A lamb is placed, just ravished from his dam. And next a wall they build, with stones and earth Encircling round, and hiding from all view The dreadful precipice. Now when the shades Of night hang lowering o'er the mountain's brow; And hunger keen, and pungent thirst of blood, 240 Rouse up the slothful beast, he shakes his sides, Slow-rising from his lair, and stretches wide His ravenous jaws, with recent gore distained. The forests tremble, as he roars aloud, Impatient to destroy. O'erjoyed he hears The bleating innocent, that claims in vain The shepherd's care, and seeks with piteous moan The foodful teat; himself, alas! designed Another's meal. For now the greedy brute Winds him from far; and leaping o'er the mound 250 To seize his trembling prey, headlong is plunged Into the deep abyss. Prostrate he lies Astunned and impotent. Ah! what avail Thine eye-balls flashing fire, thy length of tail, That lashes thy broad sides, thy jaws besmeared With blood and offals crude, thy shaggy mane The terror of the woods, thy stately port, And bulk enormous, since by stratagem Thy strength is foiled? Unequal is the strife, When sovereign reason combats brutal rage. 260 On distant Ethiopia's sun-burnt coasts, The black inhabitants a pitfall frame, But of a different kind, and different use. With slender poles the wide capacious mouth, And hurdles slight, they close; o'er these is spread A floor of verdant turf, with all its flowers Smiling delusive, and from strictest search Concealing the deep grave that yawns below. Then boughs of trees they cut, with tempting fruit Of various kinds surcharged; the downy peach, 270 The clustering vine, and of bright golden rind The fragrant orange. Soon as evening gray Advances slow, besprinkling all around With kind refreshing dews the thirsty glebe, The stately elephant from the close shade With step majestic strides, eager to taste The cooler breeze, that from the sea-beat shore Delightful breathes, or in the limpid stream To lave his panting sides; joyous he scents The rich repast, unweeting of the death 280 That lurks within. And soon he sporting breaks The brittle boughs, and greedily devours The fruit delicious. Ah! too dearly bought; The price is life. For now the treacherous turf Trembling gives way; and the unwieldy beast Self-sinking, drops into the dark profound. So when dilated vapours, struggling heave The incumbent earth; if chance the caverned ground Shrinking subside, and the thin surface yield, Down sinks at once the ponderous dome, engulfed 290 With all its towers. Subtle, delusive man! How various are thy wiles! artful to kill Thy savage foes, a dull unthinking race! Fierce from his lair, springs forth the speckled pard, Thirsting for blood, and eager to destroy; The huntsman flies, but to his flight alone Confides not: at convenient distance fixed, A polished mirror stops in full career The furious brute: he there his image views; Spots against spots with rage improving glow; 300 Another pard his bristly whiskers curls, Grins as he grins, fierce-menacing, and wide Distends his opening jaws; himself against Himself opposed, and with dread vengeance armed. The huntsman now secure, with fatal aim Directs the pointed spear, by which transfixed He dies, and with him dies the rival shade. Thus man innumerous engines forms, to assail The savage kind: but most the docile horse, Swift and confederate with man, annoys 310 His brethren of the plains; without whose aid The hunter's arts are vain, unskilled to wage With the more active brutes an equal war. But borne by him, without the well-trained pack, Man dares his foe, on wings of wind secure. Him the fierce Arab mounts, and with his troop Of bold compeers, ranges the deserts wild, Where by the magnet's aid, the traveller Steers his untrodden course; yet oft on land Is wrecked, in the high-rolling waves of sand 320 Immersed and lost; while these intrepid bands, Safe in their horses' speed, out-fly the storm, And scouring round, make men and beasts their prey. The grisly boar is singled from his herd As large as that in Erimanthian woods. A match for Hercules. Round him they fly In circles wide; and each in passing sends His feathered death into his brawny sides. But perilous the attempt. For if the steed Haply too near approach; or the loose earth 330 His footing fail; the watchful angry beast The advantage spies; and at one sidelong glance Rips up his groin. Wounded, he rears aloft, And plunging, from his back the rider hurls Precipitant; then bleeding spurns the ground, And drags his reeking entrails o'er the plain. Meanwhile the surly monster trots along, But with unequal speed; for still they wound, Swift-wheeling in the spacious ring. A wood Of darts upon his back he bears; adown 340 His tortured sides, the crimson torrents roll From many a gaping font. And now at last Staggering he falls, in blood and foam expires. But whither roves my devious Muse, intent On antique tales, while yet the royal stag Unsung remains? Tread with respectful awe Windsor's green glades; where Denham, tuneful bard, Charmed once the listening dryads, with his song Sublimely sweet. Oh! grant me, sacred shade, To glean submiss what thy full sickle leaves. 350 The morning sun that gilds with trembling rays Windsor's high towers, beholds the courtly train Mount for the chase, nor views in all his course A scene so gay: heroic, noble youths, In arts and arms renowned, and lovely nymphs The fairest of this isle, where Beauty dwells Delighted, and deserts her Paphian grove For our more favoured shades: in proud parade These shine magnificent, and press around The royal happy pair. Great in themselves, 360 They smile superior; of external show Regardless, while their inbred virtues give A lustre to their power, and grace their court With real splendours, far above the pomp Of eastern kings, in all their tinsel pride. Like troops of Amazons, the female band Prance round their cars, not in refulgent arms As those of old; unskilled to wield the sword, Or bend the bow, these kill with surer aim. The royal offspring, fairest of the fair, 370 Lead on the splendid train. Anna, more bright Than summer suns, or as the lightning keen, With irresistible effulgence armed, Fires every heart. He must be more than man, Who unconcerned can bear the piercing ray. Amelia, milder than the blushing dawn, With sweet engaging air, but equal power, Insensibly subdues, and in soft chains Her willing captives leads. Illustrious maids, Ever triumphant! whose victorious charms, 380 Without the needless aid of high descent, Had awed mankind, and taught the world's great lords To bow and sue for grace. But who is he Fresh as a rose-bud newly blown, and fair As opening lilies; on whom every eye With joy and admiration dwells? See, see, He reins his docile barb with manly grace. Is it Adonis for the chase arrayed? Or Britain's second hope? Hail, blooming youth![9] May all your virtues with your years improve, 390 Till in consumate worth, you shine the pride Of these our days, and to succeeding times A bright example. As his guard of mutes On the great sultan wait, with eyes deject And fixed on earth, no voice, no sound is heard Within the wide serail, but all is hushed, And awful silence reigns; thus stand the pack Mute and unmoved, and cowering low to earth, While pass the glittering court, and royal pair: So disciplined those hounds, and so reserved, 400 Whose honour 'tis to glad the hearts of kings. But soon the winding horn, and huntsman's voice, Let loose the general chorus; far around Joy spreads its wings, and the gay morning smiles. Unharboured now the royal stag forsakes His wonted lair; he shakes his dappled sides, And tosses high his beamy head, the copse Beneath his antlers bends. What doubling shifts He tries! not more the wily hare; in these Would still persist, did not the full-mouthed pack 410 With dreadful concert thunder in his rear. The woods reply, the hunter's cheering shouts Float through the glades, and the wide forest rings. How merrily they chant! their nostrils deep Inhale the grateful steam. Such is the cry, And such the harmonious din, the soldier deems The battle kindling, and the statesman grave Forgets his weighty cares; each age, each sex In the wild transport joins; luxuriant joy, And pleasure in excess, sparkling exult 420 On every brow, and revel unrestrained. How happy art thou, man, when thou 'rt no more Thyself! when all the pangs that grind thy soul, In rapture and in sweet oblivion lost, Yield a short interval, and ease from pain! See the swift courser strains, his shining hoofs Securely beat the solid ground. Who now The dangerous pitfall fears, with tangling heath High-overgrown? Or who the quivering bog Soft yielding to the step? All now is plain, 430 Plain as the strand sea-laved, that stretches far Beneath the rocky shore. Glades crossing glades The forest opens to our wondering view: Such was the king's command. Let tyrants fierce Lay waste the world; his the more glorious part To check their pride; and when the brazen voice Of war is hushed (as erst victorious Rome) To employ his stationed legions in the works Of peace; to smoothe the rugged wilderness, To drain the stagnate fen, to raise the slope 440 Depending road, and to make gay the face Of nature, with the embellishments of art. How melts my beating heart! as I behold Each lovely nymph our island's boast and pride, Push on the generous steed, that strokes along O'er rough, o'er smooth, nor heeds the steepy hill, Nor falters in the extended vale below: Their garments loosely waving in the wind, And all the flush of beauty in their cheeks! While at their sides their pensive lovers wait, 450 Direct their dubious course; now chilled with fear Solicitous, and now with love inflamed. Oh! grant, indulgent Heaven, no rising storm May darken with black wings, this glorious scene! Should some malignant power thus damp our joys, Vain were the gloomy cave, such as of old Betrayed to lawless love the Tyrian queen. For Britain's virtuous nymphs are chaste as fair, Spotless, unblamed, with equal triumph reign In the dun gloom, as in the blaze of day. 460 Now the blown stag, through woods, bogs, roads, and streams Has measured half the forest; but alas! He flies in vain, he flies not from his fears. Though far he cast the lingering pack behind, His haggard fancy still with horror views The fell destroyer; still the fatal cry Insults his ears, and wounds his trembling heart. So the poor fury-haunted wretch (his hands In guiltless blood distained) still seems to hear

The dying shrieks; and the pale threatening ghost _470 Moves as he moves, and as he flies pursues. See here his slot; up yon green hill he climbs, Pants on its brow a while, sadly looks back On his pursuers, covering all the plain; But wrung with anguish, bears not long the sight, Shoots down the steep, and sweats along the vale: There mingles with the herd, where once he reigned Proud monarch of the groves, whose clashing beam

His rivals awed, and whose exalted power Was still rewarded with successful love. 480 But the base herd have learned the ways of men, Averse they fly, or with rebellious aim Chase him from thence: needless their impious deed, The huntsman knows him by a thousand marks, Black, and embossed; nor are his hounds deceived; Too well distinguish these, and never leave Their once devoted foe; familiar grows His scent, and strong their appetite to kill. Again he flies, and with redoubled speed Skims o'er the lawn; still the tenacious crew 490 Hang on the track, aloud demand their prey, And push him many a league. If haply then Too far escaped, and the gay courtly train Behind are cast, the huntsman's clanging whip Stops full their bold career; passive they stand, Unmoved, an humble, an obsequious crowd, As if by stern Medusa gazed to stones. So at their general's voice whole armies halt In full pursuit, and check their thirst of blood. Soon at the king's command, like hasty streams 500 Dammed up a while, they foam, and pour along With fresh-recruited might. The stag, who hoped His foes were lost, now once more hears astunned The dreadful din; he shivers every limb, He starts, he bounds; each bush presents a foe. Pressed by the fresh relay, no pause allowed, Breathless, and faint, he falters in his pace, And lifts his weary limbs with pain, that scarce Sustain their load! he pants, he sobs appalled; Drops down his heavy head to earth, beneath 510 His cumbrous beams oppressed. But if perchance Some prying eye surprise him; soon he rears Erect his towering front, bounds o'er the lawn With ill-dissembled vigour, to amuse The knowing forester; who inly smiles

At his weak shifts, and unavailing frauds. So midnight tapers waste their last remains, Shine forth a while, and as they blaze expire. From wood to wood redoubling thunders roll, And bellow through the vales; the moving storm _520 Thickens amain, and loud triumphant shouts, And horns shrill-warbling in each glade, prelude To his approaching fate. And now in view With hobbling gait, and high, exerts amazed What strength is left: to the last dregs of life Reduced, his spirits fail, on every side Hemmed in, besieged; not the least opening left To gleaming hope, the unhappy's last reserve. Where shall he turn? or whither fly? Despair Gives courage to the weak. Resolved to die, _530 He fears no more, but rushes on his foes, And deals his deaths around; beneath his feet These grovelling lie, those by his antlers gored Defile the ensanguined plain. Ah! see distressed He stands at bay against yon knotty trunk, That covers well his rear, his front presents An host of foes. Oh! shun, ye noble train, The rude encounter, and believe your lives Your country's due alone. As now aloof They wing around, he finds his soul upraised _540 To dare some great exploit; he charges home Upon the broken pack, that on each side Fly diverse; then as o'er the turf he strains, He vents the cooling stream, and up the breeze Urges his course with eager violence: Then takes the soil, and plunges in the flood Precipitant; down the mid-stream he wafts Along, till (like a ship distressed, that runs Into some winding creek) close to the verge Of a small island, for his weary feet _550 Sure anchorage he finds, there skulks immersed. His nose alone above the wave draws in The vital air; all else beneath the flood Concealed, and lost, deceives each prying eye Of man or brute. In vain the crowding pack Draw on the margin of the stream, or cut The liquid wave with oary feet, that move In equal time. The gliding waters leave No trace behind, and his contracted pores But sparingly perspire: the huntsman strains _560 His labouring lungs, and puffs his cheeks in vain; At length a blood-hound bold, studious to kill, And exquisite of sense, winds him from far; Headlong he leaps into the flood, his mouth Loud opening spends amain, and his wide throat Swells every note with joy; then fearless dives Beneath the wave, hangs on his haunch, and wounds The unhappy brute, that flounders in the stream, Sorely distressed, and struggling strives to mount The steepy shore. Haply once more escaped, _570 Again he stands at bay, amid the groves Of willows, bending low their downy heads. Outrageous transport fires the greedy pack; These swim the deep, and those crawl up with pain The slippery bank, while others on firm land Engage; the stag repels each bold assault, Maintains his post, and wounds for wounds returns. As when some wily corsair boards a ship Full-freighted, or from Afric's golden coasts, Or India's wealthy strand, his bloody crew _580 Upon her deck he slings; these in the deep Drop short, and swim to reach her steepy sides, And clinging, climb aloft; while those on board Urge on the work of fate; the master bold, Pressed to his last retreat, bravely resolves To sink his wealth beneath the whelming wave, His wealth, his foes, nor unrevenged to die. So fares it with the stag: so he resolves To plunge at once into the flood below, Himself, his foes in one deep gulf immersed. _590 Ere yet he executes this dire intent, In wild disorder once more views the light; Beneath a weight of woe, he groans distressed: The tears run trickling down his hairy cheeks; He weeps, nor weeps in vain. The king beholds His wretched plight, and tenderness innate Moves his great soul. Soon at his high command Rebuked, the disappointed, hungry pack Retire submiss, and grumbling quit their prey. Great Prince! from thee, what may thy subjects hope; _600 So kind, and so beneficent to brutes? O mercy, heavenly born! Sweet attribute! Thou great, thou best prerogative of power! Justice may guard the throne, but joined with thee, On rocks of adamant it stands secure, And braves the storm beneath; soon as thy smiles Gild the rough deep, the foaming waves subside, And all the noisy tumult sinks in peace.



BOOK IV.

THE ARGUMENT.

Of the necessity of destroying some beasts, and preserving others for the use of man.—Of breeding of hounds; the season for this business.—The choice of the dog, of great moment.—Of the litter of whelps.—Number to be reared.—Of setting them out to their several walks.—Care to be taken to prevent their hunting too soon.—Of entering the whelps.—Of breaking them from running at sheep.-Of the diseases of hounds.-Of their age.—Of madness; two sorts of it described, the dumb, and outrageous madness: its dreadful effects.—Burning of the wound recommended as preventing all ill consequences.—The infectious hounds to be separated, and fed apart.—The vanity of trusting to the many infallible cures for this malady.—The dismal effects of the biting of a mad dog, upon man, described. —Description of the otter hunting.—The conclusion.

Whate'er of earth is formed, to earth returns Dissolved: the various objects we behold, Plants, animals, this whole material mass, Are ever changing, ever new. The soul Of man alone, that particle divine, Escapes the wreck of worlds, when all things fail. Hence great the distance 'twixt the beasts that perish, And God's bright image, man's immortal race. The brute creation are his property, Subservient to his will, and for him made. 10 As hurtful these he kills, as useful those Preserves; their sole and arbitrary king. Should he not kill, as erst the Samian sage Taught unadvised, and Indian Brahmins now As vainly preach; the teeming ravenous brutes Might fill the scanty space of this terrene, Encumbering all the globe: should not his care Improve his growing stock, their kinds might fail, Man might once more on roots, and acorns, feed, And through the deserts range, shivering, forlorn, 20 Quite destitute of every solace dear, And every smiling gaiety of life. The prudent huntsman, therefore, will supply, With annual large recruits, his broken pack, And propagate their kind. As from the root Fresh scions still spring forth, and daily yield New blooming honours to the parent-tree; Far shall his pack be famed, far sought his breed, And princes at their tables feast those hounds His hand presents, an acceptable boon. 30 Ere yet the Sun through the bright Ram has urged His steepy course, or mother Earth unbound Her frozen bosom to the western gale; When feathered troops, their social leagues dissolved, Select their mates, and on the leafless elm The noisy rook builds high her wicker nest; Mark well the wanton females of thy pack, That curl their taper tails, and frisking court Their pyebald mates enamoured; their red eyes Flash fires impure; nor rest, nor food they take, 40 Goaded by furious love. In separate cells Confine them now, lest bloody civil wars Annoy thy peaceful state. If left at large, The growling rivals in dread battle join, And rude encounter. On Scamander's streams Heroes of old with far less fury fought, For the bright Spartan dame, their valour's prize. Mangled and torn thy favourite hounds shall lie, Stretched on the ground; thy kennel shall appear A field of blood: like some unhappy town 50 In civil broils confused, while Discord shakes Her bloody scourge aloft, fierce parties rage, Staining their impious hands in mutual death. And still the best beloved, and bravest fall: Such are the dire effects of lawless love. Huntsman! these ills by timely prudent care Prevent: for every longing dame select Some happy paramour; to him alone In leagues connubial join. Consider well His lineage; what his fathers did of old, 60 Chiefs of the pack, and first to climb the rock, Or plunge into the deep, or thread the brake With thorns sharp-pointed, plashed, and briers inwoven. Observe with care his shape, sort, colour, size. Nor will sagacious huntsmen less regard His inward habits: the vain babbler shun, Ever loquacious, ever in the wrong. His foolish offspring shall offend thy ears With false alarms, and loud impertinence. Nor less the shifting cur avoid, that breaks 70 Illusive from the pack; to the next hedge Devious he strays, there every mews he tries: If haply then he cross the steaming scent, Away he flies vain-glorious; and exults As of the pack supreme, and in his speed And strength unrivalled. Lo! cast far behind His vexed associates pant, and labouring strain To climb the steep ascent. Soon as they reach The insulting boaster, his false courage fails, Behind he lags, doomed to the fatal noose, 80 His master's hate, and scorn of all the field. What can from such be hoped, but a base brood Of coward curs, a frantic, vagrant race? When now the third revolving moon appears, With sharpened horns, above the horizon's brink; Without Lucina's aid, expect thy hopes Are amply crowned; short pangs produce to light The smoking litter; crawling, helpless, blind, Nature their guide, they seek the pouting teat That plenteous streams. Soon as the tender dam 90 Has formed them with her tongue, with pleasure view The marks of their renowned progenitors, Sure pledge of triumphs yet to come. All these Select with joy; but to the merciless flood Expose the dwindling refuse, nor o'erload The indulgent mother. If thy heart relent, Unwilling to destroy, a nurse provide, And to the foster-parent give the care Of thy superfluous brood; she'll cherish kind The alien offspring; pleased thou shalt behold 100 Her tenderness, and hospitable love. If frolic now, and playful they desert Their gloomy cell, and on the verdant turf With nerves improved, pursue the mimic chase, Coursing around; unto thy choicest friends Commit thy valued prize: the rustic dames Shall at thy kennel wait, and in their laps Receive thy growing hopes, with many a kiss Caress, and dignify their little charge With some great title, and resounding name 110 Of high import. But cautious here observe To check their youthful ardour, nor permit The unexperienced younker, immature, Alone to range the woods, or haunt the brakes Where dodging conies sport: his nerves unstrung, And strength unequal; the laborious chase Shall stint his growth, and his rash forward youth Contract such vicious habits, as thy care And late correction never shall reclaim. When to full strength arrived, mature and bold, 120 Conduct them to the field; not all at once But as thy cooler prudence shall direct, Select a few, and form them by degrees To stricter discipline. With these consort The stanch and steady sages of thy pack, By long experience versed in all the wiles, And subtle doublings of the various chase. Easy the lesson of the youthful train, When instinct prompts, and when example guides. If the too forward younker at the head 130 Press boldly on, in wanton sportive mood, Correct his haste, and let him feel abashed The ruling whip. But if he stoop behind In wary modest guise, to his own nose Confiding sure; give him full scope to work His winding way, and with thy voice applaud His patience, and his care; soon shalt thou view The hopeful pupil leader of his tribe, And all the listening pack attend his call. Oft lead them forth where wanton lambkins play, 140 And bleating dams with jealous eyes observe Their tender care. If at the crowding flock He bay presumptuous, or with eager haste Pursue them scattered o'er the verdant plain; In the foul fact attached, to the strong ram Tie fast the rash offender. See! at first His horned companion, fearful, and amazed, Shall drag him trembling o'er the rugged ground; Then with his load fatigued, shall turn a-head, And with his curled hard front incessant peal 150 The panting wretch; till breathless and astunned, Stretched on the turf he lie. Then spare not thou The twining whip, but ply his bleeding sides Lash after lash, and with thy threatening voice, Harsh-echoing from the hills, inculcate loud His vile offence. Sooner shall trembling doves Escaped the hawk's sharp talons, in mid air, Assail their dangerous foe, than he once more Disturb the peaceful flocks. In tender age Thus youth is trained; as curious artists bend 160 The taper, pliant twig; or potters form Their soft and ductile clay to various shapes. Nor is't enough to breed; but to preserve Must be the huntsman's care. The stanch old hounds Guides of thy pack, though but in number few, Are yet of great account; shall oft untie The Gordian knot, when reason at a stand Puzzling is lost, and all thy art is vain. O'er clogging fallows, o'er dry plastered roads, O'er floated meads, o'er plains with flocks distained 170 Rank-scenting, these must lead the dubious way. As party-chiefs in senates who preside, With pleaded reason and with well turned speech Conduct the staring multitude; so these Direct the pack, who with joint cry approve, And loudly boast discoveries not their own. Unnumbered accidents, and various ills, Attend thy pack, hang hovering o'er their heads, And point the way that leads to Death's dark cave. Short is their span; few at the date arrive Of ancient Argus in old Homer's song 180 So highly honoured: kind, sagacious brute! Not even Minerva's wisdom could conceal Thy much-loved master from thy nicer sense. Dying, his lord he owned, viewed him all o'er With eager eyes, then closed those eyes, well pleased. Of lesser ills the Muse declines to sing, Nor stoops so low; of these each groom can tell The proper remedy. But oh! what care! What prudence can prevent madness, the worst Of maladies? Terrific pest! that blasts 190 The huntsman's hopes, and desolation spreads Through all the unpeopled kennel unrestrained. More fatal than the envenomed viper's bite; Or that Apulian[10] spider's poisonous sting, Healed by the pleasing antidote of sounds. When Sirius reigns, and the sun's parching beams Bake the dry gaping surface, visit thou Each even and morn, with quick observant eye, Thy panting pack. If in dark sullen mood, The gloating hound refuse his wonted meal, 200 Retiring to some close, obscure retreat, Gloomy, disconsolate: with speed remove The poor infectious wretch, and in strong chains Bind him suspected. Thus that dire disease Which art can't cure, wise caution may prevent. But this neglected, soon expect a change, A dismal change, confusion, frenzy, death. Or in some dark recess the senseless brute Sits sadly pining: deep melancholy, And black despair, upon his clouded brow 210 Hang lowering; from his half-opening jaws The clammy venom, and infectious froth, Distilling fall; and from his lungs inflamed, Malignant vapours taint the ambient air, Breathing perdition: his dim eyes are glazed, He droops his pensive head, his trembling limbs No more support his weight; abject he lies, Dumb, spiritless, benumbed; till death at last Gracious attends, and kindly brings relief. Or if outrageous grown, behold alas! 220 A yet more dreadful scene; his glaring eye Redden with fury, like some angry boar Churning he foams; and on his back erect His pointed bristles rise; his tail incurved He drops, and with harsh broken bowlings rends The poison-tainted air, with rough hoarse voice Incessant bays; and snuff's the infectious breeze; This way and that he stares aghast, and starts At his own shade; jealous, as if he deemed The world his foes. If haply toward the stream 230 He cast his roving eye, cold horror chills His soul; averse he flies, trembling, appalled. Now frantic to the kennel's utmost verge Raving he runs, and deals destruction round. The pack fly diverse; for whate'er he meets Vengeful he bites, and every bite is death. If now perchance through the weak fence escaped, Far up the wind he roves, with open mouth Inhales the cooling breeze, nor man, nor beast He spares, implacable. The hunter-horse, 240 Once kind associate of his sylvan toils, (Who haply now without the kennel's mound Crops the rank mead, and listening hears with joy The cheering cry, that morn and eve salutes His raptured sense) a wretched victim falls. Unhappy quadruped! no more, alas! Shall thy fond master with his voice applaud Thy gentleness, thy speed; or with his hand Stroke thy soft dappled sides, as he each day Visits thy stall, well pleased; no more shalt thou 250 With sprightly neighings, to the winding horn And the loud opening pack in concert joined, Glad his proud heart. For oh! the secret wound Rankling inflames, he bites the ground and dies. Hence to the village with pernicious haste Baleful he bends his course: the village flies Alarmed; the tender mother in her arms Hugs close the trembling babe; the doors are barred, And flying curs, by native instinct taught, Shun the contagious bane; the rustic bands 260 Hurry to arms, the rude militia seize Whate'er at hand they find; clubs, forks, or guns From every quarter charge the furious foe, In wild disorder, and uncouth array: Till now with wounds on wounds oppressed and gored, At one short poisonous gasp he breathes his last. Hence to the kennel, Muse, return, and view With heavy heart that hospital of woe: Where Horror stalks at large; insatiate Death Sits growling o'er his prey: each hour presents 270 A different scene of ruin and distress. How busy art thou, Fate! and how severe Thy pointed wrath! the dying and the dead Promiscuous lie; o'er these the living fight In one eternal broil; not conscious why, Nor yet with whom. So drunkards in their cups, Spare not their friends, while senseless squabble reigns. Huntsman! it much behoves thee to avoid The perilous debate! Ah! rouse up all Thy vigilance, and tread the treacherous ground 280 With careful step. Thy fires unquenched preserve, As erst the vestal flame; the