10 



Where, oh where, rings G-oodaH'sf horn ? Who can tell ? 

 Whj came I with this cursed Quorn ? Who can tell ? 

 Marquis, this is not a race ; Can you look us in the face, 

 And declare you love the chase ? Who can tell ? 



ELEGY ON THE DEATH OE HONEST BALL. 



Scene — The Close next the Eoad at Aston. 



'Twas on a verdant pasture's side, 

 Thro' which the tinkling riv'lets glide, 



And sportful lambkins play ; 

 Where ever steady faithful Ball, 

 Obedient to his master's call, 



His time had grazed away. 



When lo ! a huntsman's voice was heard. 

 His head old Ball in transport reared, 



He hailed each choral hound ; 

 The conscious snort his pride declared, 

 In ev'ry neigh his joy appeared — 



He spurned the trembling ground. 



Of fond ideas what a train, 



Of blissful pleasures \vhat a chain, 



Then sprung into his heart ! 

 All rapture will abound, says he, 

 To my good master and to me, 



That hunting can impart. 



t Mr. Tailby's huntsman. 



