In the glad sounds that still from hill and vale,
And glen remote, come echoed on the gale
To greet th' excited ear?
Lo! o'er the changing sward
Sweep now the huntsmen in the rapid chace,
The deep-toned yell of hounds, mouthing the trace
Of the fleet deer, is heard.
In lone and hoary wood,
Where the wild cherry and the yellow elm
Commingled with the oak, the soul o'erwhelm