MR. THOMAS THORN HILL MORLAND 187 



Borne from that wood, their huntsman's cheer 

 Drew many a Tar Wood straggler near. 

 And he who felt the pace too hot, 

 There gladly sought a resting spot. 

 Himself of that " White Horse " availing, 

 When conscious that his own was failing. 



Thus ships, when they no more can bide 

 The fury of the wind and tide. 

 If chance some tranquil port they spy, 

 Where vessels safely sheltered lie, 

 There seek a refuge from the gale, 

 Cast anchor, and let down their sail. 



The speed of horse, the pluck of man, 



They needed both who led the van ; 



This Holmes can tell, who through the day 



Was ever foremost through the fray, 



And Holloway with best intent 



Still shivering timber as he went ; 



And Williams, clinging to the pack, 



As if the League were at his back ; 



And Tollitt ready still to sell 



The nag that carried him so well. 



A pretty sight at first to see. 

 Young Pretyman on Modesty ; 

 But Pretyman went on so fast, 

 That Modesty took fright at last ; 

 So bent was she to shun disgrace. 

 That in the brook she hid her face ; 

 So bashful, that to drag her out 

 They fetched a team and tackle stout. 



When younger men of lighter weight 

 Some tale of future sport relate, 

 Let Whippy show the brush he won. 

 And tell them of the Tar Wood run, 



