At the top of his speed, sadly beat and forlorn, Behold CAPT. HORTON is steering for BALN; For accustom'd at sea, both to _shift_ and to _tack_, He hopes by _manoeuv'ring_ to gain the fleet pack. Chorus. With my, &c. The two LEES,[234] HARVEY HAWKE,[235] FRANK SOTH'RON,[236] and all, Are skirting away for STAPLETON HALL; Whilst far in the rear, behold ALVERLEY COOKE,[237] Endeav'ring to scramble o'er HAMPOLE'S wide brook. Chorus. With my, &c. Far aloof to the right, and op'ning a gate, There's a sportsman by system, who never rides straight; But why, my good GODFREY,[238] thus far will you roam, When a pack of fine beagles hunt close to your home? Chorus. With my, &c. Safe o'er the brook--but where's CAPTAIN DANSER?[239] Oh! he's stopping to catch SIR ROWLAND WINN'S prancer; But what is the use of that, my friend WINN,[240] If on foot you attempt it, you'll _sure_ tumble in. Chorus. With my, &c. On his chesnut nag mounted, and heaving in flank, At a very great distance, behold BACON FRANK;[241] So true's the old maxim, we even now find, That, "_justice will always come limping behind_." Chorus. With my, &c. See STARKEY and HOPWOOD, so full of their jokes, From BRAMHAM MOOR come, to be quizzing the folks; And when they return the whole chase they'll explain, Tho' they saw little of it--to crony FOX LANE. Chorus. With my, &c. Lost, spavin'd, and wind-gall'd, but showing some blood, For from COXCOMB'S poor shoulders it streams in a flood; Behold Mr. HODGSON,[242] how he fumes and he frets, While his black lays entangled in cursed sheep nets. Chorus. With my, &c. If his name I pass'd over, I fear he would cavil, I just wish to say that I _saw_ Mr. SAVILLE; And with very long coat on, (a friend to his tailor) With some more WAKEFIELD heroes, behold Mr. NAYLOR. Chorus. With my, &c. A large posse see in the valley below, Who serve very well for to make up a show; But broad as the brook is, it made many stop, It's not ev'ry man's luck for to get to the top. Chorus. With my, &c. JOHNNY DALTON[243] so sure at Went made a slip, His nag tumbl'd in and he cry'd for his whip; His groom coming up found his master so cross, D----n your fine whip, what's become of the horse? Chorus. With my, &c. Now all having pass'd, I'll to FERRYBRIDGE go,[244] Each event of the day at the club I shall know; Where bright bumpers of claret enliven the night, And chase far away hated envy, and spite. Chorus. With my, &c.