"THE SQUIRE." 



The boldest of riders, though gentle in bearing ! 

 The pride of the country ! the life of the chase ! 

 With manner refined and a way so endearing — 

 She captured all hearts with her beautiful face. 



Possessed of broad acres, herself represented 

 The best of good names in our foxhunting shire. 

 We knew her from childhood — so calm and contented ; 

 We knew her ; and gave her the name of " the Squire." 



Methinks I can see them — the mare she was riding ! 

 As bold as a lion, as meek as a dove ! 

 The hunter so tame in the hand that was guiding 

 Its movements with kindness, its mettle with love. 



Methinks I can hear it — that wonderful holloa ; 

 Which rang through the woodland and rose to the sky. 

 The cry of the hounds we attempted to follow ; 

 The stir of the moment ; the order to fly. 



The first of the fences, a Dorsetshire double ! 

 " The Squire "was away, like a bird on the wing. 

 In and out went the mare, without effort or trouble ; 

 And settled to work with a stride and a swing. 



