THE OLD BERKS HUNT 



Though now, the pack approaching nigh, 



He hears his death-note in the cry. 



They viewed him, and then seemed their race 



The very lightning of the chase ! 



The fox had reached the Southropp lane, 



He strove to cross it, but in vain, 



The pack rolled o'er him in his stride, 



And onward struggling till he died. 



This gallant fox, in Tar Wood found, 



Had crossed full twenty miles of ground, 



Had sought in cover, left or right, 



No shelter to conceal his flight, 



But nigh two hours the open kept, 



As stout a fox as ever stept ! 



That morning in the saddle set, 



A hundred men at Tar Wood met ; 



The eager steeds which they bestrode, 



Paced two and fro the Witney Road. 



For hard as iron shoe that trod 



Its surface the unyielding sod. 



Till mid-day sun had thawed the ground 



And made it fit for foot of hound. 



They champ'd the bit and chew'd the reign, 



And paw'd the frozen earth again. 



Impatient with fleet hoof to scour 



The vale, each minute seemed an hour, 



Still rumour says of that array 



Scarce ten lived fairly through the day. 



Ah 1 how shall I in song declare 

 The riders who were foremost there, 

 A fit excuse how shall I find 

 For ev'ry rider left behind. 



Though Cokethorpe seem one open plain, 

 'Tis flashed and sluiced with many a drain, 



