A subtle, pilfering foe, prowling around
In midnight shades, and wakeful to destroy.
In the full fold, the poor defenceless lamb,
Seiz'd by his guileful arts, with sweet warm blood
Supplies a rich repast. The mournful ewe,
Her dearest treasure lost, through the dun night
Wanders perplex'd, and darkling bleats in vain :
While in th' adjacent bush, poor Philomel
(Herself a parent once, till wanton churls
Despoil'd her nest) joins in her loud laments,
With sweeter notes, and more melodious woe.

Wide-gaping threatens death. The craggy steep,
Where the poor dizzy shepherd crawls with care,
And clings to every twig, gives us no pain;
But down we sweep, as stoops the falcon bold
To pounce his prey. Then up th' opponent hill,
By the swift motion slung, we mount aloft:
So ships in winter-seas now sliding sink
Adown the steepy wave, then toss'd on high
Ride on the billows, and defy the storm.

For these nocturnal thieves, huntsman, prepare Thy sharpest vengeance. Oh! how glorious 'tis To right th' oppress'd, and bring the felon vile To just disgrace! Ere yet the morning peep, Or stars retire from the first blush of day, With thy far-echoing voice alarm thy pack, And rouse thy bold compeers. Then to the copse, Thick with entangling grass, or prickly furze, With silence lead thy many-colour'd hounds, In all their beauty's pride. See! how they range Dispers'd, how busily this way, and that, They cross, examining with curious nose Each likely haunt. Hark! on the drag I hear Their doubtful notes, preluding to a cry More nobly full, and swell'd with every mouth. As straggling armies, at the trumpet's voice, Press to their standard; hither all repair, And hurry through the woods; with hasty step Rustling, and full of hope; now driven on heaps They push, they strive; while from his kennel sneaks

[Chase

What lengths we pass! where will the wandering Lead us bewilder'd! smooth as swallows skim The new-shorn mead, and far more swift, we fly. See my brave pack; how to the head they press, Jostling in close array, then more diffuse Obliquely wheel, while from their opening mouths The vollied thunder breaks. So when the cranes Their annual voyage steer, with wanton wing Their figure oft they change, and their loud clang From cloud to cloud rebounds. How far behind The hunter-crew, wide-straggling o'er the plain! The panting courser now with trembling nerves Begins to reel; urg'd by the goring spur, Makes many a faint effort: he snorts, he foams, The big round drops run trickling down his sides, With sweat and blood distain'd. Look back and view The strange confusion of the vale below, Where sour vexation reigns; see yon poor jade! In vain th' impatient rider frets and swears; With galling spurs harrows his mangled sides: He can no more: his stiff unpliant limbs Rooted in earth, unmov'd and fix'd he stands, For every cruel curse returns a groan, And sobs, and faints, and dies. Who without grie Can view that pamper'd steed, his master's joy, His minion, and his daily care, well cloth'd, Well fed with every nicer cate; no cost, No labour spar'd; who, when the flying Chase Broke from the copse, without a rival led The numerous train: now a sad spectacle Of pride brought low, and humbl'd insolence, Drove like a pannier'd ass, and scourg'd along. While these, with loosen'd reins and dangling heels, Hang on their reeling palfreys, that scarce bear Their weights: another in the treacherous bog Lies floundering, half ingulph'd. What biting thoughts

The conscious villain. See! he skulks along,
Sleek at the shepherd's cost, and plump with meals
Purloin'd. So thrive the wicked here below.
Though high his brush he bear, though tipt with
white

It gaily shine; yet ere the Sun declin'd
Recall the shades of night, the pamper'd rogue
Shall rue his fate revers'd, and at his heels
Behold the just avenger, swift to seize
His forfeit head, and thirsting for his blood. [hearts
Heavens! what melodious strains! how beat our
Big with tumultuous joy! the loaded gales
Breathe harmony; and as the tempest drives
From wood to wood, through every dark recess
The forest thunders, and the mountains shake.
The chorus swells; less various, and less sweet,
The trilling notes, when in those very groves,
The feather'd choristers salute the Spring,
And every bush in concert joins; or when
The master's hand, in modulated air,
Bids the loud organ breathe, and all the powers
Of music in one instrument combine,
An universal minstrelsy. And now

In vain each earth he tries, the doors are barr'd
Impregnable, nor is the covert safe;

He pants for purer air. Hark! what loud shouts
Re-echo through the groves! 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. Now, my brave youths,
Now give a loose to the clean generous steed;
Flourish the whip, nor spare the galling spur;
But, in the madness of delight, forget

Your fears. Far o'er the rocky hills we range,
And dangerous our course; but in the brave
True courage never fails. In vain the stream
In foaming eddies whirls; in vain the ditch

Torment th' abandon'd crew! Old age laments
His vigour spent: the tall, plump, brawny youth
Curses his cumberous bulk; and envies now
The short pygmean race he whilom kenn'd
With proud insulting leer. A chosen few
Alone the sport enjoy, nor droop beneath [height
Their pleasing toils. Here, huntsman, from this
Observe yon birds of prey; if I can judge,
'Tis there the villain lurks: they hover round
And claim him as their own. Was I not right?
See! there he creeps along; his brush he drags,
And sweeps the mire impure; from his wide jaws
His tongue unmoisten'd hangs; symptoms too sure
Of sudden death. Ha! yet he flies, nor yields
To black despair. But one loose more, and all
His wiles are vain. Hark! through yon village now
The rattling clamour rings. The barns, the cots,
And leafless elms return the joyous sounds.
Through every homestall, and through every yard,
His midnight walks, panting, forlorn, he flies;
Through every hole he sneaks, through every jakos
Plunging he wades besmear'd, and fondly hopes
In a superior stench to lose his own:
But, faithful to the track, th' unerring hounds

Of peace; to smooth the rugged wilderness,
To drain the stagnate fen, to raise the slope
Depending road, and to make gay the face
Of Nature, with th' embellishments of Art.

How melts my beating heart! as I behold
Each lovely nymph, our island's boast and pride,
Push on the generous steed, that strokes along
O'er rough, o'er smooth, nor heeds the steepy hill,
Nor faulters in th' extended vale below :
Their garments loosely waving in the wind,
And all the flush of beauty in their cheeks!
While at their sides their pensive lovers wait,
Direct their dubious course; now chill'd with fear
Solicitous, and now with love inflam'd.

O! grant, indulgent Heaven, no rising storm
May darken with black wings this glorious scene!
Should some malignant power thus damp our joys,
Vain were the gloomy cave, such as of old
Betray'd to lawless love the Tyrian queen.
For Britain's virtuous nymphs are chaste as fair,
Spotless, unblam'd, with equal triumph reign
In the dun gloom, as in the blaze of day.

Now the blown stag, through woods, bogs, roads, and streams

Has measur'd half the forest; but alas! Te flies in vain, he flies not from his fears. Though far he cast the lingering pack behind, fis haggard fancy still with horrour views The fell destroyer; still the fatal cry Ensults his ears, and wounds his trembling heart. o the poor fury-haunted wretch (his hands

n guiltless blood distain'd) still seems to hear The dying shrieks; and the pale threatening ghost Moves as he moves, and as he flies, pursues. See here his slot; up yon green hill he climbs, Pants on its brow awhile, sadly looks back On his pursuers, covering all the plain; But wrung with anguish, bears not long the sight, hoots down the steep, and sweats along the vale. here mingles with the herd, where once he reign'd 'roud monarch of the groves, whose clashing beam His rivals aw'd, and whose exalted power Vas still rewarded with successful love. But the base herd have learn'd the ways of men, Siverse they fly, or with rebellious aim

hase him from thence: needless their impious deed, he huntsman knows him by a thousand marks, Black, and imbost; nor are his hounds deceiv'd; oo well distinguish these, and never leave heir once devoted foe; familiar grows His scent, and strong their appetite to kill. Again he flies, and with redoubled speed kims o'er the lawn; still the tenacious crew Hang on the track, aloud demand their prey, Aud push him many a league. If haply then foo far escap'd, and the gay courtly train Behind are cast, the huntsman's clanging whip Stops full their bold career; passive they stand, Unmov'd, an humble, an obsequious crowd, As if by stern Medusa gaz'd to stones. So at their general's voice whole armies halt In full pursuit, and check their thirst of blood. Soon at the king's command, like hasty streams Damm'd up awhile, they foam, and pour along With fresh recruited might. The stag, who hop'd His foes were lost, now once more hears astunn'd The dreadful din; he shivers every limb, He starts, he bounds, each bush presents a foe. Press'd by the fresh relay, no pause allow'd, Breathless, and faint, he faulters in his pace,

And lifts his weary limbs with pain, that scarce Sustain their load: he pants, he sobs appall'd! Drops down his heavy head to earth, beneath His cumbrous beams oppress'd. But if perchance Some prying eye surprize him; soon he rears Erect his towering front, bounds o'er the lawn With ill-dissembled vigour, to amuse The knowing forester; who inly smiles At his weak shifts and unavailing frauds. So midnight tapers waste their last remains, Shine forth awhile, and as they blaze expire. From wood to wood redoubling thunders roll, And bellow through the vales; the moving storm Thickens amain, and loud triumphant shouts, And horns shrill-warbling in each glade, prelude To his approaching fate. And now in view With hobbling gait, and high, exerts amaz'd What strength is left: to the last dregs of life Reduc'd, his spirits fail, on every side Hemm'd in, besieg'd; not the least opening left To gleaming hope, th' unhappy's last reserve. Where shall he turn? or whither fly? Despair Gives courage to the weak. Resolv'd to die, He fears no more, but rushes on his foes, And deals his deaths around; beneath his feet These grovelling lie, those by his antlers gor'd Defile th' ensanguin'd plain. Ah! see distress'd He stands at bay against yon knotty trunk, That covers well his rear, his front presents An host of foes. O! shun, ye noble train, The rude encounter, and believe your lives Your country's due alone. As now aloof They wing around, he finds his soul uprais'd, To dare some great exploit; he charges home Upon the broken pack, that on each side Fly diverse; then as o'er the turf he strains, He vents the cooling stream, and up the breeze Urges his course with equal violence: Then takes the soil, and plunges in the flood Precipitant; down the mid-stream he wafts Along, till (like a ship distress'd, that runs Into some winding creek) close to the verge Of a small island, for his weary feet Sure anchorage he finds, there skulks immers'd. His nose alone above the wave draws in The vital air; all else beneath the flood Conceal'd, and lost, deceives each prying eye Of man or brute. In vain the crowding pack Draw on the margin of the stream, or cut The liquid wave with oary feet, that move In equal time. The gliding waters leave No trace behind, and his contracted pores But sparingly perspire: the huntsman strains His labouring lungs, and puffs his cheeks in vain: At length a blood-hound bold, studious to kill, And exquisite of sense, winds him from far; Headlong he leaps into the flood, his mouth Loud opening spends amain, and his wide throat Swells every note with joy; then fearless dives Beneath the wave, hangs on his haunch, and wounds Th' unhappy brute, that flounders in the stream Sorely distress'd, and struggling strives to mount The steepy shore. Haply once more escap'd, Again he stands at bay, amid the groves Of willows, bending low their downy heads. Outrageous transport fires the greedy pack; These swim the deep, and those crawl up with pain The slippery bank, while others on firm land Engage; the stag repels each bold assault, Maintains his post, and wounds for wounds returns

As when some wily corsair boards a ship
Full-freighted, or from Afric's golden coasts,
Or India's wealthy strand, his bloody crew
Upon her deck he slings; these in the deep
Drop short, and swim to reach her steepy sides,
And clinging climb aloft; while those on board
Urge on the work of Fate; the master bold,
Press'd to his last retreat, bravely resolves
To sink his wealth beneath the whelming wave,
His wealth, his foes, nor unreveng'd to die.
So fares it with the stag: so he resolves
To plunge at once into the flood below,
Himself, his foes, in one deep gulph immers'd.
Ere yet he executes this dire intent,

In wild disorder once more views the light;
Beneath a weight of woe he groans distress'd,
The tears run trickling down his hairy cheeks;
He weeps, nor weeps in vain. The king beholds
His wretched plight, and tenderness innate
Moves his great soul. Soon at his high command
Rebuk'd, the disappointed, hungry pack,
Retire submiss, and grumbling quit their prey.
Great Prince! from thee what may thy subjects
hope;

So kind, and so beneficent to brutes!

O Mercy, heavenly born! sweet attribute!
Thou great, thou best prerogative of power!
Justice may guard the throne, but, join'd with thee,
On rocks of adamant it stands secure,
And braves the storm beneath; soon as thy smiles
Gild the rough deep, the foaming waves subside,
And all the noisy tumult sinks in peace.

Book IV.

Argument.

Of the necessity of destroying some beasts, and preserving others for the use of man. Of breeding of hounds; the season for this business. The choice of the dog, of great moment. Of the litter of whelps. Of the number to be reared. Of setting them out to their several walks. Care to be taken to prevent their hunting too soon. Of entering the whelps. Of breaking them from running at sheep. Of the diseases of hounds. Of their age. Of madness; two sorts of it described, the dumb and outrageous madness: its dreadful effects. Burning of the wound recommended as preventing all ill consequences. The infectious hounds to be separated, and fed apart. The vanity of trusting to the many infallible cures for this malady. The dismal effects of the biting of a mad dog, upon man, described. Description of the otter hunting. The conclu

sion.

WHATE'ER of earth is form d, to earth returns
Dissolv'd: the various objects we behold,
Plants, animals, this whole material mass,
Are ever changing, ever new. The soul
Of man alone, that particle divine,
Escapes the wreck of worlds, when all things fail.
Hence great the distance 'twixt the beasts that perish,
And God's bright image, man's immortal race.
The brute creation are his property,
Subservient to his will, and for him made.
As hurtful these he kills, as useful those
Preserves; their sole and arbitrary king.

Should he not kill, as erst the Samian sage
Taught unadvis'd, and Indian brachmans now
As vainly preach; the teeming ravenous brutes
Might fill the scanty space of this terrene,
Encumbering all the globe: should not his care
Improve his growing stock, their kinds might fail
Man might once more on roots and acorns feed,
And through the deserts range, shivering, forlorn,
Quite destitute of every solace dear,
And every smiling gaiety of life.

The prudent huntsman therefore will supply
With annual large recruits his broken pack,
And propagate their kind: as from the root
Fresh scions still spring forth and daily yield
New blooming honours to the parent-tree.
Far shall his pack be fam'd, far sought his breed,
And princes at their tables feast those hounds
His hand presents, an acceptable boon.

Ere yet the Sun through the bright Ram has ung'd His steepy course, or mother Earth unbound Her frozen bosom to the Western gale; When feather'd troops, their social leagues dissal'd, Select their mates, and on the leafless elm The noisy rook builds high her wicker nest, Mark well the wanton females of thy pack, That curl their taper tails, and frisking court Their pyebald mates enamour'd; their red eyes Flash fires impure; nor rest, nor food they take, Goaded by furious love. In separate cells Confine them now, lest bloody civil wars Annoy thy peaceful state. If left at large, The growling rivals in dread battle join, And rude encounter; on Scamander's streams Heroes of old with far less fury fought For the bright Spartan dame, their valour's prist Mangled and torn thy favourite hounds shall lie, Stretch'd on the ground; thy kennel shall appear A field of blood: like some unhappy town In civil broils confus'd, while Discord shakes Her bloody scourge aloft, fierce parties rage, Staining their impious hands in mutual death. And still the best beloved, and bravest fall: Such are the dire effects of lawless love.

:

Huntsman ! these ills by timely prudent care
Prevent for every longing dame select
Some happy paramour; to him alone
In leagues connubial join. Consider well
His lineage; what his fathers did of old,
Chiefs of the pack, and first to climb the rock,
Or plunge into the deep, or tread the brake
With thorn sharp-pointed, plash'd, and briers -
woven;

Observe with care his shape, sort, colour, sire.
Nor will sagacious huntsmen less regard
His inward habits: the vain babbler shun,
Ever loquacious, ever in the wrong.
His foolish offspring shall offend thy ears
With false alarins, and loud impertinence.
Nor less the shifting cur avoid, that breaks
Illusive from the pack; to the next hedge
Devious he strays, there every muse he tries:
If haply then he cross the steaming scent,
Away he flies vain-glorious; and exults
As of the pack supreme, and in his speed
And strength unrivall'd. Lo! cast far behind,
His vex'd associates pant, and labouring strain
To climb the steep ascent. Soon as they reach
Th' insulting boaster, his false courage fails,
Behind he lags, doom'd to the fatal noose,
His master's hate, and scorn of all the field