LORD MIDDLETON.— 1817. 129 



When found, we have not yet been told 



Whether the knave were coil'd or sitting ; 



But this we know, the varlet bold 



Went off at that rare pace called splitting ! 



First, to Lord Willoxjghby's we find 



Him striking off in right direction ; 

 Hoping, no doubt, in covert kind 



To meet with covertly protection. 



Scarce staying now to pay regards 



To friend or love, had he one met there ; 



He spank'd away briskly towards 



Old Moreton Wood, and chanc'd to get there. 



This wood is better known, 'tis true, 



If we should call it Moreton Morrell ; 



And now the pace began to shew 



Which the best horse was — bay or sorrel. 



Diverging now, he quickly made 



For the long-noted Wood of Oakley ; 



And here began his shifting trade 



The pack to him at such a stroke lay. 



Rush'd thro' the wood, as here he found 



The covert cold too hot to hold him ; 

 He knew this would not baulk the hound. 



Or else some friendly brother told him. 



To High Down Hill at speed made play. 



Then to Whitnash turning, rallied ; 

 The hounds press closer on the way. 



The scent approaching near to calid. 



