A "MEET" AND A "FIND" 



XI 



Drest in the pride of her Sunday array. 



The huswife stands aloof, 

 Timidly plucking her child away 



From the lunge of uplifted hoof. 



XII 



Curb'd for that hand which the casement unbarr'd, 



To the porch is a palfrey led, 

 The trim gravel court by the prancing scarr'd 



Of his proud and impatient tread ; 



XIII 



A fair-hair'd youth to the portal flew, 



And stood by her bridle-rein ; 

 He lifts her light foot to the stirrup-shoe. 



And they follow the hunting-train. 



XIV 



His saddle-bow hung with a silver horn. 



All eyes on the master gaze. 

 Lord of the hunting-field ! monarch, this morn, 



Of all that he surveys ! 



XV 



The Huntsman has drunk to the health of the 

 Squire 



From the depth of the leathern jack. 

 And lifting his cap, as the gentry admire 



His well-condition'd pack. 



