A POEM. 95 



You and your dogs and traps in buggy wend 

 Your way from London, to your country friend ; 

 And 'mongst your traps, I strongly would advise 

 Of your dogs' usual food you take supplies ; 

 For 'tis essential, that they've had, they should 

 Still have to hunt on, and their usual food 

 Should not be chang'd : lacking this caution, I 

 Have notic'd that the dogs unpleasantly 

 Their work have done ; 'tis always best t' avoid 

 A chance the most remote, of being annoy'd : 

 Thro' well-throng'd streets your devious course you 



wind, 



Soon leave its mass of bustling life behind. 

 And now the country charms your gazing eye> 

 You feel a diffrent man, and can't tell why ; 

 Save for a time you're going to exchange, 

 P'rhaps, dull monotony for cheerful range ; 

 And as you onward jog, on morrow's sport 

 In sweet anticipation will disport, 

 F 2 



