HUNTING SONGS 



VI 



" To the Huntsman, when at fault, then I jeeringly 



would cry, 

 ' Not gone to ground is the fox you found, but lost 



in a cloudy sky ! ' 

 Or, perch'd upon some tree-top, looking downwards 



at the group. 

 And, lifting to one ear a pad, would halloo there, 



' Who whoop ! ' " 



VII 



"Thank you, kindly," said the Pheasant, "true it 

 is that, while I run. 



No worthy mark I offer to attract the murderous 

 gun; 



But say, should hunger pinch you, could a Pheasant- 

 cock rely 



On the abstinence of friendship, if he had not wings 

 to fly ? " 



MORAL 



Self, Self it is that rules us all — when hounds begin 



to race. 

 To aid a friend in grief would you resign a forward 



place ? 

 When planted at the brook, o'er which your rival's 



horse has flown, 

 Don't you wish the rider in it, and the rider's luck 



your own ? 

 i68 



