Page:The Chace - Somervile (1735).djvu/58

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THE CHACE.
Book II.
But if she fly, and with the fav'ring Wind 175 Urge her bold Course; less intricate thy Task: Push on thy Pack. Like some poor exil'd Wretch The frighted Chace leaves her late dear Abodes, O'er Plains remote she stretches far away, Ah! never to return! For greedy Death 180Hov'ring exults, secure to seize his Prey.
Hark! from yon Covert, where those tow'ring Oaks Above the humble Copse aspiring rise, What glorious Triumphs burst in ev'ry Gale Upon our ravish'd Ears! The Hunters shout, 185The clanging Horns swell their sweet-winding Notes, The Pack wide-op'ning load the trembling Air With various Melody; from Tree to Tree The propagated Cry, redoubling bounds, And winged Zephyrs waft the floating Joy 190

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