Giants of the Past 179 



Tom Moody .0 ^> ^^^ 



YOU all know Tom Moody, the whipper-in, 

 well— 

 The bell just done tolling was honest Tom's knell : 

 A more able sportsman ne'er followed a hound. 

 In a country well known to him fifty miles round. 

 No hound ever challenged so deep in the wood, 

 But Tom knew the sound and could tell if 'twas 



good; 

 And all with attention would eagerly mark 

 When he cheer'd up the pack with, " Hark, Rattler 



boy, hark ! " 

 Hie cross him and wind him, now " Rattler boy, 



hark ! " 



Six worthy earth stoppers, in hunter-green dressed. 

 Supported poor Tom to an earth made for rest ; 

 His horse, whom he styled " his old soul," next 



appeared. 

 On whose forehead the brush of his last fox was 



reared. 

 Whip, cap, boots and spurs, in trophy were bound, 

 And here and there followed an old straggling 



hound ; 

 Ah ! no more at his halloa ye vales will they brace. 

 Or the Wrekin resound his first scream in the 



chase 

 With, hie over, now press him, tally-ho ! tally-ho ! 



Tom thus spoke to his friends ere he gave up his 



breath — 

 "Since I see you're resolved to be in at the death, 

 One favour bestow, 'tis the last I shall crave. 

 Give a rattling ' view-holloa' thrice over my grave ; 



