Page:The Chace - Somervile (1735).djvu/64

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THE CHACE.
Book II.
Loud was the Cry, Hills, Woods, and Hebrus' Banks, 275Return'd their clam'rous Rage; distress'd he flies,Shifting from Place to Place, but flies in vain;For eager they pursue, 'till panting, faint,By noisy Multitudes o'erpower'd, he sinks,To the relentless Crowd a bleeding Prey. 280
The Huntsman now, a deep Incision made,Shakes out with Hands impure, and dashes downHer reeking Entrails, and yet quiv'ring Heart.These claim the Pack, the bloody PerquisiteFor all their Toils. Strech'd on the Ground she lies, 285A mangled Coarse; in her dim glaring EyesCold Death exults, and stiffens ev'ry Limb.Aw'd by the threat'ning Whip, the furious HoundsAround her Bay; or at their Master's Foot,

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