196 WARWICKSHIRE HUNT. 



Foxes — of better game or blood, 

 Were never bred in brake or wood — 

 Foxes — more hardy, brave, or stout, 

 Were never roiis'd by hunters' shout — 

 Foxes — none can more boldly lead 

 O'er glebe and wold, at greater speed ! 



The hounds into the covert rush, 

 And nimbly ply round ev'ry bush. 

 With eager and sagacious nose, 

 Where reyi^ard sly might seek repose. 



Silent the Field — a single word 

 Is not from one good Sportsman heard ; 

 With head askance, by ear to seize 

 Floating upon the welcome breeze 

 The first, the heart-inspiring note 

 Of some stanch hound of tuneful throat. 

 But now and then will intervene 

 Some babbling tongue to mar the scene. 



From kennel rous'd, the game they send 

 From covert at the Moreton endj 

 The pack well up — the Field in place. 

 Delighted join the doubtful chase ; 

 And if in countenance we find 

 An index faithful of the mind. 

 There seldom was, at cover yet, 

 A field scarce half so happy met, 



Cross'd Moreton Common, where the soil 

 Favour'd the fleetest nags awhile j 

 Through Evenlode without a stop 

 To those who could the hedges top. 



