Page:The Chace - Somervile (1735).djvu/133

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Book IV.
THE CHACE.
113
Inhales the cooling Breeze, nor Man, nor BeastHe spares implacable. The Hunter-Horse, 240Once kind Associate of his sylvan Toils,(Who haply now without the Kennel's MoundCrops the rank Mead, and list'ning hears with JoyThe chearing Cry, that Morn and Eve salutesHis raptur'd Sense) a wretched Victim falls. 245Unhappy Quadrupede! no more, alass!Shall thy fond Master with his Voice applaudThy Gentleness, thy Speed; or with his HandStroke thy soft dappled Sides, as he each DayVisits thy Stall, well pleas'd; no more shalt thouWith sprightly Neighings, to the winding Horn,And the loud-op'ning Pack in consort join'd,Glad his proud Heart. For oh! the secret WoundRankling inflames, he bites the Ground and dies.

Hence

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