162 WARWICKSHIRE HUNT. 



The pack so close he durst not stay, 

 Too feeble now to get away ; 

 Beaten, but still too brave to yield, 

 He yet led on the anxious Field. 



The nags that slacken'd in their pace, 

 Were urg'd by spurs to keep their place ; 

 While the tough thong, freely apply'd, 

 Weal'd, ev'ry stroke, their tender side. 



By course direct pug sought to gain 

 Some covert on the grand demesne 

 Of Stoneley 1 — in whose stately wood 

 He'll meet no more his kindred brood. 

 Near Chesford, where the bridge doth stride 

 The Avon deep from side to side. 

 The hounds upon the public road 

 Threw up their fox — and now the proud 

 Field give the death-whoop — th' welcome sound 

 Echo repeats for miles around. 



When the hounds crossed the Avon, the only gentlemen 

 who followed to the bank of the river, were Capt. Russell, 

 Mr. H. Wyatt, Mr, Napier, Mr. W. Pickering, Mr. F. 

 Holland, Mr. Smith, surgeon, of Evesham, and Wood 

 the huntsman. Not fancying a cold bath, they galloped 

 along the meadows, and crossed the water at Guyscliff Mill 

 and were in at the death. — act.«on, jim. 



1 Stoneley Park and Abbey, the noble and magnificent residence 

 of an ardent foxhunter — Chandos Leigfh, Esq. 



