^eckford 



Or where your pains, and aches, ye complaining ones ? one 

 halloo has dispelled them all. — What a crash they make ! 

 and echo seemingly takes place to repeat the sounds. The 

 astonished traveller forsakes his road, lured by its melody ; 

 the listening plowman now stops his plow ; and every 

 distant shepherd neglects his flock, and runs to see him 

 break. — What joy ! what eagerness in every face ! 



' How happy art thou, man, when thou 'rt no more 

 Thyself ! when all the pangs that grind thy soul, 

 In rapture and in sweet oblivion lost, 

 Yield a short interval, and ease from pain ! ' 



SOMERVILE. 



Mark how he runs the covert's utmost limits, yet dares 

 not venture forth ; the hounds are still too near ! That 

 check is lucky ! — now, if our friends head him not, he will 

 soon be off— hark 1 they halloo : by G — d he 's gone ! 



* Hark ! what loud shouts 

 Re-echo thro' the grooves ! he breaks away : 

 Shrill horns proclaim his flight. Each straggling hound 

 Strains o'er the lawn to reach the distant pack, 

 Tis triumph all, and joy.' 



SOMERVILE. 



Now huntsman, get on with the head hounds ; the 

 whipper-in will bring on the others after you : keep an 

 attentive eye on the leading hounds, that should the scent 

 fail them, you may know at least how far they brought it. 



Mind Galloper, how he leads them ! — It is difficult to 

 distinguish which is first, they run in such a style ; yet he 

 is the foremost hound. — The goodness of his nose is not 

 H 113 



