HUNTING SONGS 



III 



Their high-mettled courage no dangers appal, 



So keen was the ardour display'd ; 

 Some lose a frail stirrup, some flounder, some fall, 

 Some gallantly stem the deep waters, and all 



For the sake of the pretty milk-maid. 



IV 



For thirty fast minutes Pug fled from his foes. 

 Nor a moment for breathing allow'd ; 



When at Cholm'stone the skurry was brought to a 

 close, 



The nags that had follow'd him needed repose, 

 As their panting and sobbing avow'd. 



V 



There, stretch'd on the greensward, lay Geoffry the 

 stout. 

 His heels were upturn'd to the sky. 

 From each boot flow'd a stream, as it were from a 



spout. 

 Away stole the fox ere one half had run out. 

 And away with fresh vigour we fly ! 



VI 



Once more to the water, though harass'd and beat. 



The fox with a struggle swam through ; 

 Though the churn that he tainted shall never be 



sweet, 

 His heart's-blood ere long shall our vengeance 

 complete. 

 And the caitiff'his villainy rue. 



44 



