Then rarer plumes shall brighter tints bestow,
Where scarlet deepens in its native glow:
Where flights of birds on blooming pinions rise,
And plumage reddens with its saffron dyes,
Or streaks in green its pied varieties.
Thy gear complete, when autumn’s end is near,
And showery winter overhangs the year,
Begin: your hounds unkennel in the mead;
Begin: O’er champaign fields impel the steed.
Hunt, while the daybreak sheds its glimmering light,