to receive
  Thy early meal, or thy officious maids,
  The toilet placed, shall urge thee to perform
  The important work.  Me other joys invite,
  The horn sonorous calls, the pack awaked
  Their matins chant, nor brook my long delay.
90
  My courser hears their voice; see there with ears
  And tail erect, neighing he paws the ground;
  Fierce rapture kindles in his reddening eyes,
  And boils in every vein.  As captive boys
  Cowed by the ruling rod, and haughty frowns
  Of pedagogues severe, from their hard tasks,
  If once dismissed, no limits can contain
  The tumult raised within their little breasts,
  But give a loose to all their frolic play: 

  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