The Fox-Chace, VIII

Now peeping from the copse so green, The Fox’s cunning head is seen, His ready ears turned back: His open mouth his terror shows; For time put off, full well he knows, Will bring the eager pack. So down towards the Tweed he steels, With outstretched brush, and nimble heels; When, hark! a horseman from below Has given the welcome Tallyho! Amazement filled the listening crew; The note was strange, the voice was new: Wondered they much who it could be That shouted with such melody; For such a voice, or such a sound, Ne’er till this moment cheered a hound.