u 



Ten minutes past ten was the time of the day 

 When Reynard unkennelled, and this was the way : 

 From G-range to Mount Silver and Clenger he past, 

 Thro' Hawkham and Hackham to Kingrose at last ; 

 O'er the hill to Fair Mile and Puddle's smooth down — 

 In Wootton's strong brake the caytiff did run ; 

 The turnpike he crossed, leapt Lord Ilehester's wall, 

 And seemed to say, " Little I value you all." 



Then close by Will Pitt's to Gallam he runs, 



Blair, Jones, and Tom Meggs kept leading by turns ; 



The earths were all open, yet he was so stout, 



Tho' he might have got in, yet he chose to keep out. 



To Elsington wood like a bullet he flew — 



At Tinkleton parish we had him in view ; 



To Frampton's bog next, o'er heaths wild and dreary. 



Where Meggs and the parson and Trenchard grew weary. 



Then away to the cliffs like an arrow he past, 

 And came near the Castle of Lulworth at last, 

 Where he valiantly plunged himself into the sea, 

 And said in his heart, " Who dares follow me?" 

 But soon to his cost he perceived that no bounds 

 Could stop the pursuit of the staunch mettled hounds. 

 His policy here did not serve him a rush — 

 Five couple of tartars were close at his brush. 



To recover the shore again was his drift. 



But, e'er he could get to the top of the clift, 



He found both of strength and of cunning a lack — 



Killed, worried, and torn by the rest of the pack. 



At his death there were present the lads whom I've sung. 



Save poor Jacky Trenchard, whom Badger had flung, 



And thus we concluded this delicate chase, 



Which lasted three hours and ten minutes' space. 



