NATURE AND SPORT IN BRITAIN 



The chase goes forward. Here is a peep at the hare. 

 How true is the likeness ! 



" But hold — I see her from the covert break ; 

 Sad on yon little eminence she sits ; 

 Intent she listens with one ear erect, 

 Pond'Ting and doubtful what new course to take." 



Driven by the echoing voices of the hounds behind 

 her, away she flies again, and away thunder hounds 

 and field in pursuit. A check follows. The line is 

 foiled by sheep. 



'* Huntsman, take heed : they stop in full career. 

 Yon crowding flocks, that at a distance gaze, 

 Have haply foil'd the turf. See ! that old hound, 

 How busil)' he works, but dares not trust 

 His doubtful sense : draw yet a wider ring. 

 Hark ! now again the chorus fills : as bells 

 Sally'd a while at once their peal renew. 

 And high in air the tuneful thunder rolls. 

 See how they toss with animated rage, 

 Recov'ring all they lost," 



The chase is now sinking, and the last shifts of the 

 hare are drawn with amazing fidelity. The death 

 ensues, and the final rites are celebrated. 



"All now is joy. With cheeks full blown they wind 

 Her solemn dirge, while the loud-op'ning pack 

 The concert swell and hills and dales return 

 The sadly pleasing sounds." 



Like most hare-hunters, Somervile has a soft corner 

 in his heart for the quarry he pursues. Not so for the 

 fox. 



" The conscious villain. See! how he skulks along, 

 Sleek at the shepherd's cost, and plump with meals 

 Purloin'd." 



From hare -hunting Somervile turns for a time to 

 view the pursuit of great game in Hindostan, describ- 

 ing at length and with much vigour Aurungzebe, the 

 Great Mogul, hunting in his far domains. Now follows 



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