BOOK I THE CHASE v. 139-163.
Some envious cloud veil thy refulgent brow,
In vain the Muses aid, untouch’d, unstrung,
Lies my mute harp, and thy desponding bard
Sits darkly musing o’er the unfinish’d lay.
Let no Corinthian pillars prop the dome,
A vain expense, on charitable deeds
Better disposed, to clothe the tatter’d wretch
Who shrinks beneath the blast, to feed the poor,
Pinch’d with afflictive want: for use, not state,
Gracefully plain let each apartment rise.
O’er all let cleanliness preside; no scraps
Bestrew the pavement, and no half-pick’d bones,
To kindle fierce debate, or to disgust
That nicer sense, on which the sportsman’s hope,
And all his future triumphs, must depend.
Soon as the growling pack, with eager joy,
Have lapp’d their smoking viands, morn or eve,
From the full cistern lead the ductile streams,
To wash thy court, well-paved; nor spare thy pains,
For much to health will cleanliness avail.
Seek’st thou for hounds to climb the rocky steep,
And brush the entangled covert, whose nice scent
O’er greasy fallows, and frequented roads,
Can pick the dubious way? Banish far off
Each noisome stench, let no offensive smell
BOOK I THE CHASE v. 164-188.
Invade thy wide inclosure, but admit
The nitrous air, and purifying breeze.
Water and shade no less demand thy care:
In a large square the adjacent field inclose;
There plant, in equal ranks, the spreading elm,
Or fragrant lime; most happy thy design,
If, at the bottom of thy spacious court,
A large canal, fed by the crystal brook,
From its transparent bosom shall reflect
Downward thy structure and inverted grove.
Here, when the sun’s too potent gleams annoy
The crowded kennel, and the drooping pack,
Restless and faint, loll their unmoisten’d tongues,
And drop their feeble tails, to cooler shades
Lead forth the panting tribe; soon shalt thou find
The cordial breeze their fainting hearts revive:
Tumultuous soon they plunge into the stream,
There lave their reeking sides, with greedy joy
Gulp down the flying wave; this way and that,
From shore to shore, they swim, while clamour loud,
And wild uproar, torments the troubled flood;
Then on the sunny bank they roll and stretch
Their dripping limbs; or else in wanton rings
Coursing around, pursuing and pursued,
The merry multitude disporting play.
BOOK I THE CHASE v. 189-213.
But here, with watchful and observant eye,
Attend their frolicks, which too often end
In bloody broils and death. High o’er thy head
Wave thy resounding whip, and, with a voice
Fierce-menacing, o’er-rule the stern debate,
And quench their kindling rage; for oft, in sport
Begun, combat ensues; growling they snarl,
Then on their haunches rear’d, rampant they seize
Each other’s throats, with teeth and claws, in gore
Besmear’d, they wound, they tear, till on the ground,
Panting, half dead, the conquering champion lies:
Then sudden all the base ignoble crowd,
Loud-clamouring, seize the helpless worried wretch,
And, thirsting for his blood, drag different ways
His mangled carcase on the ensanguined plain.
O breasts of pity void! to oppress the weak,
To point your vengeance at the friendless head,
And, with one mutual cry, insult the fall’n!
Emblem too just of man’s degenerate race.
Others apart, by native instinct led,
Knowing instructor! ’mong the ranker grass
Cull each salubrious plant, with bitter juice
Concoctive stored, and potent to allay
Each vicious ferment. Thus the hand divine
Of Providence, beneficent and kind
BOOK I THE CHASE v. 213-236.
To all his creatures, for the brutes prescribes
A ready remedy, and is himself
Their great physician! Now grown stiff with age,
And many a painful chase, the wise old hound,
Regardless of the frolick pack, attends
His master’s side, or slumbers, at his ease,
Beneath the bending shade; there, many a ring
Runs o’er in dreams; now on the doubtful foil
Puzzles perplex’d, or doubles intricate
Cautious unfolds; then, wing’d with all his speed,
Bounds o’er the lawn to seize his panting prey,
And in imperfect whimp’ring speaks his joy.
A different hound, for every diff’rent chase,
Select with judgment; nor the timorous hare
O’ermatch’d destroy, but leave that vile offence
To the mean, murd’rous, coursing crew, intent
On blood and spoil. Oh blast their hopes, just Heaven!
And all their painful drudgeries repay
With disappointment, and severe remorse.
But husband thou thy pleasures, and give scope
To all her subtle play: by nature led,
A thousand shifts she tries; to unravel these
The industrious beagle twists his waving tail,
Through all her labyrinths pursues, and rings
BOOK I THE CHASE v. 237-260.
Her doleful knell. See there, with countenance blithe,
And with a courtly grin, the fawning hound
Salutes thee, cowering, his wide opening nose
Upward he curls, and his large sloe-black eyes
Melt in soft blandishments, and humble joy;
His glossy skin, or yellow-pied, or blue,
In lights or shades by nature’s pencil drawn,
Reflects the various tints; his ears and legs,
Fleckt here and there, in gay enamell’d pride
Rival the speckled pard; his rush-grown tail
O’er his broad back bends in ample arch;
On shoulders clean, upright and firm he stands;
His round cat foot, straight hams, and wide-spread thighs,
And his low-dropping chest, confess his speed,
His strength, his wind, or on the steepy hill,
Or far-extended plain; in every part
So well proportion’d, that the nicer skill
Of Phidias himself can’t blame thy choice.
Of such compose thy pack: but here a mean
Observe; nor the large hound prefer, of size
Gigantick; he in the thick-woven covert
Painfully tugs, or in the thorny brake
Torn and embarrass’d, bleeds: but if too small,
The pigmy brood in every furrow swims;