EARLY DAYS 13 



Weaver's Lodge, Lenton Pastures, or famed Ropsley Rice 

 Shall no more echo gaily his clear ringing voice ; 

 Ne'er again his gay talk, as he trots by our side, 

 Shall dispel the fatigue of a long homeward ride. 



Ah ! how oft, so returning, our friend have we seen. 



From his hat to his boots all unsullied and clean 



As if — when the snow, or the winter's cold rains, 



With mire had bestrewn all the fields and the lanes — 



Prom his person attendants, concealed from the view, 



Interposing, averted the mud as it flew ! 



Be that as it may, did we only look round 



On the rest of the " Field " and the horses, we found 



We could trace on their breeches, and boots, and array. 



Upon what kind of soil they had ridden that day ; 



Whether Stubton's stiff loam, or bleak Stapleford's peat. 



Or the heath's stony plain, had been spurned 'neath their feet. 



One had thought that our friend had discovered that well. 



Long sought for by sages — and of marvels they tell. 



That removed all the weakness of age, and, forsooth, 



Renew'd in the frame the full vigour of youth. 



No such well had he sought, or much less had he found, 



But he owed his old age and his stamina sound 



To the genuine love for that sport which alone 



In old England's fair land in perfection is known. 



Long, long may it flourish ; may foxes increase. 



But earthed, may the Rector of Broughton find peace. 



Of the fathers of the hunt still with us Sir 

 W. E. Welby- Gregory takes precedence, Major 

 Paynter being another staunch supporter, and Mr. 

 John Earle Welby as fine a horseman as ever rode 

 to hounds. The rising generation are indebted to 

 Mr. Welby for giving them a book of poems, Lays 

 of the Belvoir Hunt. Another knight of the pen 

 and the pigskin is Mr. William Finder of Barrowby, 



