Page:The Chace - Somervile (1735).djvu/82

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THE CHACE.
Book III.
Wanders perplex'd, and darkling bleats in vain:While in th'adjacent Bush, poor Philomel,(Her self a Parent once, 'till wanton ChurlsDespoil'd her Nest) joins in her loud Laments,With sweeter Notes, and more melodious Woe.
For these nocturnal Thieves, Huntsman, prepareThy sharpest Vengeance. Oh! how glorious 'tisTo right th' oppress'd, and bring the Felon vileTo just Disgrace! E'er yet the Morning peep,Or Stars retire from the first Blush of Day,With thy far-echoeing Voice alarm thy Pack, 40And rouse thy bold Compeers. Then to the Copse,Thick with entangling Grass, or prickly FurzeWith Silence lead thy many-colour'd Hounds,In all their Beauty's Pride. See! how they rangeDispers'd, how busily this Way and that, 45They cross, examining with curious Nose

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