Old Harry Hastings! of thy forest life

How whimsical, how picturesque the charms!

Yet it was sensual! With thy hounds and horn,

How cheerily didst thou salute the morn!

With airy steed didst thou pursue the strife,

Sounding through all the woodland-glades alarms.

Sunk not a dell, and not a thicket grew,

But thy skill’d eye and long experience knew.

The herds were thy acquaintance; antler’d deer

Knew where to trust thy voice, and where to fear;