Page:The Chace - Somervile (1735).djvu/61

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Book II.
THE CHACE.
41
Hang on the Scent unweary'd, up they climb,And ardent we pursue; our lab'ring SteedsWe press, we gore; till once the Summit gain'd,Painfully panting, there we breath awhile; 230Then like a foaming Torrent, pouring downPrecipitant, we smoke along the Vale.Happy the Man, who with unrival'd SpeedCan pass his Fellows, and with Pleasure viewThe struggling Pack; how in the rapid Course 235Alternate they preside, and justling pushTo guide the dubious Scent; how giddy YouthOft babbling errs, by wiser Age reprov'd;How niggard of his Strength, the wise old HoundHangs in the Rear, 'till some important Point 240Rouse all his Diligence, or 'till the ChaceSinking he finds; then to the Head he springsWith Thirst of Glory fir'd, and wins the Prize.Huntsman, take heed; they stop in full career.

Yon

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