So from their kennel rush the joyous pack; _100 A thousand wanton gaieties express Their inward ecstasy, their pleasing sport Once more indulged, and liberty restored. The rising sun that o'er the horizon peeps, As many colours from their glossy skins Beaming reflects, as paint the various bow When April showers descend. Delightful scene! Where all around is gay, men, horses, dogs, And in each smiling countenance appears Fresh-blooming health, and universal joy. _110 Huntsman, lead on! behind the clustering pack Submiss attend, hear with respect thy whip Loud-clanging, and thy harsher voice obey: Spare not the straggling cur, that wildly roves; But let thy brisk assistant on his back Imprint thy just resentments; let each lash Bite to the quick, till howling he return And whining creep amid the trembling crowd. Here on this verdant spot, where nature kind, With double blessings crowns the farmer's hopes; _120 Where flowers autumnal spring, and the rank mead Affords the wandering hares a rich repast, Throw off thy ready pack. See, where they spread And range around, and dash the glittering dew. If some stanch hound, with his authentic voice, Avow the recent trail, the jostling tribe Attend his call, then with one mutual cry The welcome news confirm, and echoing hills Repeat the pleasing tale. See how they thread The brakes, and up yon furrow drive along! _130 But quick they back recoil, and wisely check Their eager haste; then o'er the fallowed ground How leisurely they work, and many a pause The harmonious concert breaks; till more assured With joy redoubled the low valleys ring. What artful labyrinths perplex their way! Ah! there she lies; how close! she pants, she doubts If now she lives; she trembles as she sits, With horror seized. The withered grass that clings Around her head, of the same russet hue _140 Almost deceived my sight, had not her eyes With life full-beaming her vain wiles betrayed. At distance draw thy pack, let all be hushed, No clamour loud, no frantic joy be heard, Lest the wild hound run gadding o'er the plain Untractable, nor hear thy chiding voice. Now gently put her off; see how direct To her known mews she flies! Here, huntsman, bring (But without hurry) all thy jolly hounds, And calmly lay them in. How low they stoop, _150 And seem to plough the ground! then all at once With greedy nostrils snuff the fuming steam That glads their fluttering hearts. As winds let loose From the dark caverns of the blustering god, They burst away, and sweep the dewy lawn. Hope gives them wings while she's spurred on by fear. The welkin rings; men, dogs, hills, rocks, and woods In the full concert join. Now, my brave youths, Stripped for the chase, give all your souls to joy!