270
  Step after step, their size the same, their arms
  Far gleaming, dart the same united blaze: 
  Reviewing generals his merit own;
  How regular! how just! and all his cares
  Are well repaid, if mighty George approve. 
  So model thou thy pack, if honour touch
  Thy generous soul, and the world’s just applause. 
  But above all take heed, nor mix thy hounds
  Of different kinds; discordant sounds shall grate
  Thy ears offended, and a lagging line
280
  Of babbling curs disgrace thy broken pack. 
  But if the amphibious otter be thy chase,
  Or stately stag, that o’er the woodland reigns;
  Or if the harmonious thunder of the field
  Delight thy ravished ears; the deep-flewed hound
  Breed up with care, strong, heavy, slow, but sure,
  Whose ears down-hanging from his thick round head
  Shall sweep the morning dew, whose clanging voice
  Awake the mountain echo in her cell,
  And shake the forests:  the bold talbot[6] kind
290
  Of these the prime, as white as Alpine snows;
  And great their use of old.  Upon the banks
  Of Tweed, slow winding through the vale, the seat
  Of war and rapine once, ere Britons knew
  The sweets of peace, or Anna’s dread commands
  To lasting leagues the haughty rivals awed,
  There dwelt a pilfering race; well-trained and skilled
  In all the mysteries of theft, the spoil

  Their only substance, feuds and war their sport: 
  Not more expert in every fraudful art
300
  The arch felon was of old, who by the tail
  Drew back his lowing prize:  in vain his wiles,
  In vain the shelter of the covering rock,
  In vain the sooty cloud, and ruddy flames
  That issued from his mouth; for soon he paid
  His forfeit life:  a debt how justly due
  To wronged Alcides, and avenging Heaven! 
  Veiled in the shades of night they ford the stream,

  Then prowling far and near, whate’er they seize
  Becomes their prey; nor flocks nor herds are safe,
310
  Nor stalls protect the steer, nor strong barred doors
  Secure the favourite horse.  Soon as the morn
  Reveals his wrongs, with ghastly visage wan
  The plundered owner stands, and from his lips
  A thousand thronging curses burst their way: 
  He calls his stout allies, and in a line
  His faithful hound he leads, then with a voice
  That utters loud his rage, attentive cheers: 
  Soon the sagacious brute, his curling tail

  Flourished in air, low-bending plies around
320
  His busy nose, the steaming vapour snuff
  Inquisitive, nor leaves one turf untried,
  Till conscious of the recent stains, his heart
  Beats quick; his snuffling nose, his active tail
  Attest his joy; then with deep opening mouth
  That makes the welkin tremble, he proclaims
  The audacious felon; foot by foot he marks