MR. RUSSELL.— 1830. 217 



THE SAME, BY VENATOR. 



' The huntsman, ever gay, robust and bold, 

 Defies the noxious vapour, and confides 

 In this delightful exercise to raise 

 His drooping head, and cheer his heart with joy!' 



Met gay again — Ladbroke the gruund. 

 And in a small gorse covert fonnd. 

 Reynard from kennel nimbly flew. 

 Then boldly shew'd himself in \ iew ; 

 A finer fellow never led 

 A pack o'er fallow, ley, or mead. 

 The hounds rush cjuick from gorsy toil, 

 Dashing along in gallant style ; 

 To few did chance the pleasure yield 

 Of seeing them in the same field. 



The rear rank all so far thrown out, 

 They rode by guess the fields about. 

 The old inquiry making — ' Pray, 

 Can you inform me, Sir, wdiich way 

 The hounds are gone — to left or right ?' 

 Sad rueful looks from woful plight. 

 Now check'd awhile the lucky throng. 

 The fox had skulked a road along. 

 Put right again, (good ground they made,) 

 By one of Captain Swing's brigade. 

 Who sluggish at his labour ply'd 

 In muddy ditch by the way side. 

 A covert small the huntsman shew'd. 

 Where he our game had lately view'd. 

 This rais'd again our spirits high. 

 We all to the plantation fly. 

 This gallant animal — the sort 

 To shew a field the finest sport. 



