And all their canvas wings, scud half so fast. Once more, ye jovial train, your courage try, And each clean courser's speed. We scour along, In pleasing hurry and confusion tossed; Oblivion to be wished. The patient pack Hang on the scent unwearied, up they climb, And ardent we pursue; our labouring steeds We press, we gore; till once the summit gained, Painfully panting, there we breathe a while; _230 Then like a foaming torrent, pouring down Precipitant, we smoke along the vale. Happy the man, who with unrivalled speed Can pass his fellows, and with pleasure view The struggling pack; how in the rapid course Alternate they preside, and jostling push To guide the dubious scent; how giddy youth Oft babbling errs, by wiser age reproved; How, niggard of his strength, the wise old hound Hangs in the rear, till some important point _240 Rouse all his diligence, or till the chase Sinking he finds; then to the head he springs, With thirst of glory fired, and wins the prize. Huntsman, take heed; they stop in full career. Yon crowding flocks, that at a distance graze, Have haply soiled the turf. See! that old hound, How busily he works, but dares not trust His doubtful sense; draw yet a wider ring. Hark! now again the chorus fills; as bells Silenced a while at once their peal renew, _250 And high in air the tuneful thunder rolls. See, how they toss, with animated rage Recovering all they lost!--That eager haste Some doubling wile foreshews.--Ah! yet once more They're checked--hold back with speed--on either hand They nourish round--even yet persist--'Tis right, Away they spring; the rustling stubbles bend Beneath the driving storm. Now the poor chase Begins to flag, to her last shifts reduced. From brake to brake she flies, and visits all _260 Her well-known haunts, where once she ranged secure, With love and plenty bless'd. See! there she goes, She reels along, and by her gait betrays Her inward weakness. See, how black she looks! The sweat that clogs the obstructed pores, scarce leaves A languid scent. And now in open view See, see, she flies! each eager hound exerts His utmost speed, and stretches every nerve. How quick she turns! their gaping jaws eludes, And yet a moment lives; till round inclosed _270 By all the greedy pack, with infant screams She yields her breath, and there reluctant dies. So when the furious Bacchanals assailed Thracian Orpheus, poor ill-fated bard! Loud was the cry; hills, woods, and Hebrus' banks, Returned their clamorous rage; distressed he flies, Shifting from place to place, but flies in vain; For eager they pursue, till panting, faint, By noisy multitudes o'erpowered, he sinks, To the relentless crowd a bleeding prey. _280 The huntsman now, a deep incision made, Shakes out with hands impure, and dashes down Her reeking entrails, and yet quivering heart.