Page:The Chace - Somervile (1735).djvu/104

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THE CHACE.
Book III.
Whose Honour 'tis to glad the Hearts of Kings.But soon the winding Horn, and Huntsman's Voice,Let loose the gen'ral Chorus; far aroundJoy spreads its Wings, and the gay Morning smiles.
Unharbour'd now the royal Stag forsakes 405His wonted Lair; he shakes his dappled Sides,And tosses high his beamy Head, the CopseBeneath his Antlers bends. What doubling ShiftsHe tries! not more the wily Hare; in theseWou'd still persist, did not the full-mouth'd PackWith dreadful Consort thunder in his Rear.The Woods reply, the Hunter's chearing ShoutsFloat thro' the Glades, and the wide Forest rings.How merrily they chant! their Nostrils deepInhale the grateful Steam. Such is the Cry, 415And such th' harmonious Din, the Soldier deemsThe Battle kindling, and the Statesman grave

Forgets

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