To all his creatures, for the brutes prescribes A ready remedy, and is himself Their great physician! Now grown stiff with age, And many a painful chase, the wise old hound, Regardless of the frolick pack, attends His master’s side, or slumbers, at his ease, Beneath the bending shade; there, many a ring Runs o’er in dreams; now on the doubtful foil Puzzles perplex’d, or doubles intricate Cautious unfolds; then, wing’d with all his speed, Bounds o’er the lawn to seize his panting prey, And in imperfect whimp’ring speaks his joy. A different hound, for every diff’rent chase, Select with judgment; nor the timorous hare O’ermatch’d destroy, but leave that vile offence To the mean, murd’rous, coursing crew, intent On blood and spoil. Oh blast their hopes, just Heaven! And all their painful drudgeries repay With disappointment, and severe remorse. But husband thou thy pleasures, and give scope To all her subtle play: by nature led, A thousand shifts she tries; to unravel these The industrious beagle twists his waving tail, Through all her labyrinths pursues, and rings [Sidenote: BOOK I THE CHASE v. 237-260.] Her doleful knell. See there, with countenance blithe, And with a courtly grin, the fawning hound Salutes thee, cowering, his wide opening nose Upward he curls, and his large sloe-black eyes Melt in soft blandishments, and humble joy; His glossy skin, or yellow-pied, or blue, In lights or shades by nature’s pencil drawn, Reflects the various tints; his ears and legs, Fleckt here and there, in gay enamell’d pride Rival the speckled pard; his rush-grown tail O’er his broad back bends in ample arch; On shoulders clean, upright and firm he stands; His round cat foot, straight hams, and wide-spread thighs, And his low-dropping chest, confess his speed, His strength, his wind, or on the steepy hill, Or far-extended plain; in every part So well proportion’d, that the nicer skill Of Phidias himself can’t blame thy choice. Of such compose thy pack: but here a mean Observe; nor the large hound prefer, of size Gigantick; he in the thick-woven covert Painfully tugs, or in the thorny brake Torn and embarrass’d, bleeds: but if too small, The pigmy brood in every furrow swims; [Sidenote: BOOK I THE CHASE v. 261-285.]