In a bondman's key,
With 'bated breath, and whisp'ring humbleness.
Merchant of Venice, Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
It is the witness still of excellency
To put a strange face on his own perfection.
Much Ado About Nothing, Act ii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
God hath sworn to lift on high
Who sinks himself by true humility.
Miscellaneous Poems: At Hooker's Tomb. J. KEBLE.
HUNTING.
Soon as Aurora drives away the night,
And edges eastern clouds with rosy light,
The healthy huntsman, with the cheerful horn,
Summons the dogs, and greets the dappled morn.
Rural Sports, Canto II. J. GAY.
Together let us beat this ample field,
Try what the open, what the covert yield.
Essay on Man, Epistle I. A. POPE.
My hoarse-sounding horn
Invites thee to the chase, the sport of kings;
Image of war without its guilt.
The Chase. W.C. SOMERVILLE.
Contusion hazarding of neck or spine,
Which rural gentlemen call sport divine.
Needless Alarm. W. COWPER.
My hawk is tired of perch and hood,
My idle greyhound loathes his food,
My horse is weary of his stall,
And I am sick of captive thrall.
I wish I were as I have been
Hunting the hart in forests green,
With bended bow and bloodhound free,
For that's the life is meet for me!
The Lady of the Lake: Lay of the Imprisoned Huntsman,
Canto VI. SIR W. SCOTT.
Oh! what delight can a mortal lack,
When he once is firm on his horse's back,
With his stirrups short, and his snaffle strong,
And the blast of the horn for his morning song!
The Hunter's Song. B.W. PROCTER (Barry Cornwall).