THOUGHTS UPON HUNTING. Jjil 



>■ "vVhat lengths we pass I where will the wand'ring Chase 

 Lead us bewildered ! Smooth as swallows skim 

 'ilic new-shorn mead, and far more swift, we Hy. 

 See my brave pack 1 how to the head they press. 

 Jostling in close array, then more diffuse 

 Obliquely wheel, while from their op'ning mouths 

 The vollied thunder breaks. 



; Look back and view 



The strange confusion of the vale below, 

 Where soar vexation reigns ; 



Old age laments 



His vigour spent ; the tall, plump, brawny youth 

 Curses his cumbrous bulk ; and envies now 

 The short pygmean race, he whilome kenn'd 

 With proud insulting leer. A chosen few 

 Alone the sport enjoy, nor droop beneath 

 Their pleasing toils." 



SOMERVILLE. 



Hal a check. Now for a moment's patience ! — We press ; ( 

 too close upon the hounds ! — Huntsman, stand still ! — as i ' 

 yet they want you not. How admirably they spread ! — 

 how wide they cast ! — Is there a single hound that does not 

 try? — If there be, ne'er • shall he hunt again. There, 

 Trueman is on the scent : he feathers, yet still is doubtful. 

 'Tis right ! — how readily they join him! — See those wide- 

 casting hounds, how they fly forward to recover the 

 ground they have lost ! — Mind Lightnings how she dashes; 



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