Press to their standard; hither all repair, And hurry through the woods; with hasty step Bustling, and full of hope; now driven on heaps They push, they strive; while from his kennel sneaks The conscious villain. See! he skulks along, Sleek at the shepherd's cost, and plump with meals Purloined. So thrive the wicked here below. Though high his brush he bear, though tipped with white It gaily shine; yet ere the sun declined Recall the shades of night, the pampered rogue _60 Shall rue his fate reversed; and at his heels Behold the just avenger, swift to seize His forfeit head, and thirsting for his blood. Heavens! what melodious strains! how beat our hearts 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, _70 The feathered 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 barred Impregnable, nor is the covert safe; He pants for purer air. Hark! what loud shouts Re-echo through the groves! he breaks away, _80 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 _90 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 the opponent hill, By the swift motion slung, we mount aloft: So ships in winter-seas now sliding sink Adown the steepy wave, then tossed on high Ride on the billows, and defy the storm. What lengths we pass! where will the wandering chase _100 Lead us bewildered! smooth as the 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! _110 The panting courser now with trembling nerves Begins to reel; urged by the goring spur,