A Fragment of a Poem on Hunting

"Duna cano divum, lætas venantibus artes, "Auspicio, Diana, tuo——6Gratius.

orses and hounds, their care, their various race, The num'rous beasts that range the rural chase, The huntsman's chosen scenes, his friendly stars, The laws and glory of the sylvan wars, I first in British verse presume to raise, A vent'rous rival of the Roman praise. Let me, chaste queen of Woods! thy aid obtain, Bring here thy lightfoot nymphs and sprightly train. If oft' o'er lawns thy care prevents the day To rouse the foe and press the bounding prey, Woo thine own Phœbus in the task to join, And grant me genius for the bold design. In this soft shade O sooth the warriour's fire, And fit his bowstring to the trembling lyre, And teach while thus their arts and arms we sing The groves to echo and the vales to ring!

Thy care be first the various gifts to trace, The minds and genius, of the latrant race In pow'rs distinct the diff'rent clans excel, In sight, or swiftness, or sagacious smell. By wiles ungen'rous some surprise the prey, And some by courage win the doubtful day. Seest thou the gazehound how with glance fetere From the close herd he marks the destin'd deer; How ev'ry nerve the greyhound's stretch displays, The hare preventing in her airy maze; The luckless prey how treach'rous tumblers gain, And dauntless wolfdogs shake the lion's mane: O'er all the bloodhound boasts superiour skill To scent, to view, to turn, and boldly kill, His fellows' vain alarms rejects with scorn, True to the master's voice and learned horn: His nostrils oft', if ancient fame sing true; Trace the sly felon thro' the tainted dew; Once snuff'd he follows with unalter'd aim, Nor odours lure him from the chosen game; Deepmouth'd he thunders, and inflam'd he views, Springs on relentless, and to death pursues. Some hounds of manners vile, (nor less we find Of fops in hounds than in the reas'ning kind) Puff'd with conceit run gadding o'er the plain, And from the scent divert the wiser train, For the foe's footsteps fondly snuff their own, And mar the musick with their senseless tone, Start at the starting prey or rustling wind, And hot at first inglorious lag behind; A saunt'ring tribe! may such my foes disgrace! Give me, ye Gods! to breed the nobler race; Nor grieve thou to attend while truths unknown I sing, and make Athenian arts our own. Dost thou in hounds aspire to deathless fame? Learn well their lineage and their ancient stem. Each tribe with joy old rustick heralds trace, And sing the chosen worthies of their race; How his sire's features in the son were spy'd When Di was made the vig'rous Ringwood's bride. Less sure thick lips the fate of Austria doom, Or eagle noses rul'd almighty Rome. Good shape to various kinds old bards confine; Some praise the Greek and some the Roman line: And dogs to beauty make as diff'ring claims As Albion's nymphs and India's jetty dames. Immense to name their lands, to mark their bounds, And paint the thousand families of hounds! First count the sands, the drops where oceans flow, Or Gauls by Marlb'rough sent to shades below. The task be mine to teach Britannia's swains, My much lov'd country and my native plains. Such be the dog I charge thou meanst to train; His back is crooked and his belly plain, Of fillet stretch'd, and huge of haunch behind, A tap'ring tail that nimbly cuts the wind, Truss thigh'd, straight hamm'd, and foxlike form'd his paw, Large legg'd, dry sol'd, and of protended claw; His flat wide nostrils snuff the sav'ry steam, And from his eyes he shoots pernicious gleam; Middling his head, and prone to earth his view, With ears and chest that dash the morning dew: He best to stem the flood, to leap the bound, And charm the Dryads with his voice profound, To pay large tribute to his weary lord, And crown the sylvan hero's plenteous board. The matron bitch whose womb shall best produce The hopes and fortune of th' illustrious house, Deriv'd from noble but from foreign seed, For various nature loathes incest'ous breed, Is like the sire throughout; nor yet displease Large flanks and ribs, to give the teemer ease. In spring let loose thy pairs; then all things prove The flings of pleasure and the pangs of love; Ethereal Jove then glads with genial show'rs Earth's mighty womb, and strews her lap with flow'rs; Hence juices mount, and buds embolden'd try More kindly breezes and a softer sky. Kind Venus revels. Hark! on ev'ry bough In lulling strains the feather'd warblers woo; Fell tigers soften in th' infectious flames, And lions fawning court their brinded dames. Great Love pervades the deep; to please his mate The whale in gambols moves his monstrous weight; Heav'd by his wayward mirth old Ocean roars, And scatter'd navies bulge on distant shores. All Nature smiles. Come now, nor fear, my Love! To taste the odours of the woodbine grove, To pass the ev'ning glooms in harmless play, And sweetly swearing languish life away. An altar bound with recent flow'rs I rear To thee, best season of the various year! All hail! such days in beauteous order ran So swift, so sweet, when first the world began, In Eden's bow'rs when man's great fire assign'd The names and natures of the brutal kind; Then lamb and lion friendly walk'd their round, And hares undaunted licked the fondling hound; Wondrous to tell! but when with luckless hand Our daring mother broke the sole command, Then Want and Envy brought their meagre train, Then Wrath came down and Death had leave to reign; Hence foxes earth'd, and wolves abhorr'd the day, And hungry churls ensnar'd the nightly prey; Rude arts at first, but witty Want refin'd The huntsman's wiles, and Famine form'd the mind. Bold Nimrod first the lion's trophies wore, The panther bound, and lanc'd the bristling boar: He taught to turn the hare, to bay the deer, And wheel the courser in his mid career. Ah! had he there restrain'd his tyrant hand! Let me, ye Pow'rs! an humbler wreath demand: No pomps I ask which crowns and sceptres yield, Nor dang'rous laurels in the dusty field; Fast by the forest and the limpid spring Give me the warfare of the woods to sing, To breed my whelps and healthful press the game, A mean inglorious but a guiltless name. And now thy female bears in ample womb The bane of hares and triumphs yet to come. No sport I ween nor blast of sprightly horn Should tempt me then to hurt the whelps unborn. Unlock'd in covers let her freely run To range thy courts and bask before the sun. Near thy full table let the fav'rite stand, Strok'd by thy son's or blooming daughter's hand. Caress, indulge, by arts the matron bribe T'improve her breed and teem a vig'rous tribe. So, if small things may be compar'd with great, And Nature's works the Muse's imitate, So stretch'd in shades and lull'd by murm'ring streams Great Maro's breast receiv'd the heav'nly dreams; Recluse, serene, the musing prophet lay Till thoughts in embryo rip'ning burst their way. Hence bees in state and foaming coursers come, Heroes and gods, and walls of lofty Rome.