151(1 WfcME OF NOKTII AMERICA. 



Oft have I listened to the sound 

 Thy tongue rang echoing around, 

 While on before, with startled bound, 



The antlered monarch fled; 

 O! by St. Hubert! 'twas a yell, 

 Once heard, would be remembered well; 

 Its loud and glorious trumpet-swell 



Would almost Avake the dead ! 



Fierce as a Tiger on the run, 



Yet gentle when the chase was done; 



And sure as bolt from rifled gun. 



Alas! that thou art gone! 

 Faithful beyond e'en human faith, 

 Sad was the accidental scath 

 Which hurried thee to timeless death 



Of hounds the peerless one! 



Brave Venus! who will say 'tis wrong 

 For thee to sing a funeral song, 

 Or censure sorrow, keen and strong, 



For noble beast like thee? 

 I would that every earthly friend 

 May prove as constant to the end; 

 For even a dog a charm can lend 



To proud humanity ! 



