So flew’d, so sanded, and their heads are hung
With ears that sweep away the morning dew;
Crook-knee’d and dew-lapp’d, like Thessalian bulls;
Slow in pursuit, but matched in mouth like bells,
Each under each: a cry more tunable
Was never halloo’d to, nor cheered with horn.
W. Shakspeare.
DEER LEAP.
In our way to Hound’s-Down we rode past a celebrated spot, called the Deer Leap. Here a stag was once shot, which, in the agony of death, collecting his force, gave a bound which astonished those who saw it. It was immediately commemorated by two posts, which were fixed at the two extremities of the leap, where they still remain. The space between them is somewhat more than eighteen yards.
Gilpin’s “New Forest.”