66 Bird Day Book 



THE CHASE. 



THE stag at eve had drunk his fill, 

 Where danced the moon on Monan's rill, 

 And deep his midnight lair had made 

 In lone Glenartney's hazel shade; 

 But, when the sun his beacon red 

 Had kindled on Benvoirlich's head, 

 The deep-mouth'd bloodhound's heavy bay 

 Resounded up the rocky way, 

 And faint, from farther distance borne, 

 Were heard the clanging hoof and horn. 



As Chief who hears his warder call, 

 "To arms ! the foremen storm the wall," 

 The antler'd monarch of the waste 

 Sprung from his heathery couch in haste, 

 But, ere his fleet career he took, 

 The dewdrops from his flanks he shook ; 

 Like crested leader proud and high, 

 Toss'd his beam'd frontlet to the sky; 

 A moment gazed adown the dale, 

 A moment snuff'd the tainted gale, 

 A moment listen'd to the cry, 

 That thicken'd as the chase drew nigh ; 

 Then, as the headmost foes appear'd, 

 With one brave bound the copse he clear'd, 

 And, stretching forward free and far, 

 Sought the wild heaths of Uam-Var. 



