LORD MIDDLETON.— 1816. 119 



Then Debdale cover drew — and found 

 A rare old fox — no country round 

 For many years has higher stood 

 Than this for foxes — better blood. 

 More game or strength, swifter in speed, 

 Scarce gave a breathing to a steed. 



Reynard rush'd from his hiding place, 

 At what is called a slapping pace, 

 For Long Itchington — and then to 

 Weston — next passing Off church through, 

 Ran near to Radford — Some might think 

 He'd stop at Leamington, to drink 

 Of the health-giving fountain there. 

 When he had got so very near. 

 But no, this did not suit his taste. 

 And so he scamper' d off in haste. 

 Turning, at Radford, to the right. 

 Leaving of Leamington the sight. 

 To Stoneleigh Abbey ; far renown'd 

 For buildings grand, and fertile ground. 



Having of reynard got a view. 

 Aloud thro' all the woodlands flew 

 The wild ecstatic Tally-ho ! 

 While closer still the ruthless foe 

 Press on him — his trailing brush now told 

 His sad distress — yet he a bold, 

 Last effort made — when hound and horse 

 Into the Avon reynard force. 

 The pack dash'd in — and here the brave 

 Old fellow met a watry grave; 

 Or we should say, it might have been, 

 Had the hounds left or bone or skin ! 



