Here on this verdant spot, where Nature kind
With double blessings crowns the farmer’s hopes;
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 staunch 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