114 WARWICKSHIRE HUNT. 



THE SAME. BY VENATOR. 



' What a head the pack now carry! 



Oh ! it is a gh)iious run ! 

 Jack is down — and tliere goes Harry — 



Bob is blown — and Dick is done ! 



To-day^, we could with pleasure boast^ 

 In presence of our Noble Host, 

 A Field scarce equalled, to renew 

 Our sport ; which many Sportsmen true 

 Prefer either to cards or dice, 

 Or any minor selfish vice. 



Reynard, in a small covert found, 

 Rush'd quickly to the open ground, 

 And sharply led, (ungrateful things,) 

 The Field about in teasing rings. 

 Then shot, the hounds well in, a-head. 

 And straight for Wroxton New Inn made. 

 Turned back for Hornton ; where he ran 

 As he at first his course began. 

 Several rings, p'rhaps three or four. 

 Nothing distresses horses more 

 Than those perplexing circlets, when 

 Riders urgently press to gain 

 Almost by racing, the front place 

 They held till lately in the chase. 

 Our fox, sly artful rogue, tho' stout, 

 Found this false curveting about 

 Covdd not protect him long ; for now 

 He hears the rattling Tally-ho ! 

 A Tally-ho that made him quit 

 His ringing system, ere he met 

 The destiny, which no effort 

 That he could make would long avert. 



