 | Field-Sports |  |
9
FIELD-SPORTS.
A POEM.
Once more, Great Prince, permit an humble Bard
Prostrate to pay his Homage at your Feet;
Then, like the morning lark from the low ground
Tow'ring aloft, sublime to soar, and sing;
Sing the heart-chearing pleasure of the fields,
The choice delight of heroes and of kings.
Prostrate to pay his Homage at your Feet;
Then, like the morning lark from the low ground
Tow'ring aloft, sublime to soar, and sing;
Sing the heart-chearing pleasure of the fields,
The choice delight of heroes and of kings.
10
In earlier times, monarchs of eastern race
In their full blaze of pride, as story tells,
Train'd up th' imperial Eagle, sacred bird!
Hooded, with gingling bells, she perch'd on high;
Not as when erst on golden wings she led
The Roman legions o'er the conquer'd globe,
Mankind her quarry; but a docile slave,
Tam'd to the lure, and careful to attend
Her master's voice. Behold the man renown'd,
Abbas the Great (whom all his fawning slaves
Deem'd King of Kings; vain fools! They sure forgot
Greater Leonidas, and those fatal straits
Blood-stain'd, where slaughter'd Persians fell on heaps,
A dreadful carnage!) See his num'rous host
Spread wide the plains, and in their front upborne
Each on her perch, that bends beneath her weight,
Two sister Eagles, stately, pond'rous birds!
The air's a desert, and the feather'd race
Fly to the neighb'ring coverts dark retreats.
The royal pair on wing, This whirls around
In circles wide, or like the swallow skims
The russet plain, and mimics, as she flies,
(By many a sleepless night instructed well)
The Hound's loud op'nings, or the Spaniel's quest.
What cannot wakeful industry subdue!
Meanwhile that mounts on high, and seems to view
A black ascending cloud; when pierc'd the gloom
Of vapours dank condens'd, the sun's bright beams
Pain not her sight: She with expanded sails
Works through th' etherial fluid: then perhaps
Sees through a break of clouds this self-pois'd orb,
Hard by her hand-maid moon. She looks beneath
Contemptuous, and beholds from far this Earth,
This mole-hill Earth, and all its busy ants
Lab'ring for life, which lasts so short a day
Just blazing and extinct. So Thou, my Soul,
That breath of life, (which all men must perceive
But none distinctly know) when once escap'd
From this poor helpless corse, and when on high
Borne on angelic wings, look down with scorn
On this mean less'ning world, and knaves grown rich,
By chance, or fraud, or insolence of pow'r.
Now from her highest pitch, by quick degrees,
With less ambition nearer earth she tends,
As yet scarce visible; and high in air
Pois'd on extended wings, with sharper ken
Attentive marks whate'er is done below.
Thus some wise Gen'ral from a rising ground
Observes th' embattled foe, where serried ranks
Forbid access, or where their order loose
Invites th' attack, and points the way to fate.
All now is tumult, each heart swells with joy,
The falc'ners shout, and the wide concave rings,
Tremble the forests round, the joyous cries
Float thro' the vales, and rocks, and woods, and hills
Return the varied sounds. Forth bursts the Stag,
Nor trusts the mazes of his deep recess:
Fear hid him close, strange inconsistent guide!
Now hurries him aghast with busy feet
Far o'er the spacious plain; he pants to reach
The mountain's brow, or with unsteddy step
To climb the craggy cliff: The Grey-hounds strain
Behind to pinch his haunch, who scarce evades
Their gaping jaws. One Eagle wheeling flies
In airy lab'rinths, or with easier wing
Skims by his side, and stuns his patient ear
With hideous cries, then peals his forehead broad,
Or, at his eyes her fatal malice aims.
The Other, like the bolt of angry heav'n,
Darts down at once, and fixes on his back
Her griping talons, ploughing with her beak
His pamper'd chine: The blood, and sweat distill'd
From many a dripping furrow stains the soil.
Who pities not this fury-haunted wretch
Embarrass'd thus, on ev'ry side distress'd?
Death will relieve him, for the Grey-hounds fierce,
Seizing their prey, soon drag him to the ground,
Groaning he falls; with eyes that swim in tears
He looks on man, chief author of his woe,
And weeps, and dies. The Grandees press around
To dip their sabres in his boiling blood;
Unseemly joy! 'Tis barb'rous to insult
A fallen foe. The Dogs, and Birds of Prey
Insatiate, on his reeking bowels feast,
But the stern Falc'ner claims the lion's share.
In their full blaze of pride, as story tells,
Train'd up th' imperial Eagle, sacred bird!
Hooded, with gingling bells, she perch'd on high;
Not as when erst on golden wings she led
The Roman legions o'er the conquer'd globe,
Mankind her quarry; but a docile slave,
Tam'd to the lure, and careful to attend
Her master's voice. Behold the man renown'd,
Abbas the Great (whom all his fawning slaves
Deem'd King of Kings; vain fools! They sure forgot
Greater Leonidas, and those fatal straits
Blood-stain'd, where slaughter'd Persians fell on heaps,
A dreadful carnage!) See his num'rous host
Spread wide the plains, and in their front upborne
Each on her perch, that bends beneath her weight,
Two sister Eagles, stately, pond'rous birds!
The air's a desert, and the feather'd race
Fly to the neighb'ring coverts dark retreats.
11
In circles wide, or like the swallow skims
The russet plain, and mimics, as she flies,
(By many a sleepless night instructed well)
The Hound's loud op'nings, or the Spaniel's quest.
What cannot wakeful industry subdue!
Meanwhile that mounts on high, and seems to view
A black ascending cloud; when pierc'd the gloom
Of vapours dank condens'd, the sun's bright beams
Pain not her sight: She with expanded sails
Works through th' etherial fluid: then perhaps
Sees through a break of clouds this self-pois'd orb,
Hard by her hand-maid moon. She looks beneath
Contemptuous, and beholds from far this Earth,
This mole-hill Earth, and all its busy ants
Lab'ring for life, which lasts so short a day
Just blazing and extinct. So Thou, my Soul,
That breath of life, (which all men must perceive
But none distinctly know) when once escap'd
From this poor helpless corse, and when on high
Borne on angelic wings, look down with scorn
On this mean less'ning world, and knaves grown rich,
12
Now from her highest pitch, by quick degrees,
With less ambition nearer earth she tends,
As yet scarce visible; and high in air
Pois'd on extended wings, with sharper ken
Attentive marks whate'er is done below.
Thus some wise Gen'ral from a rising ground
Observes th' embattled foe, where serried ranks
Forbid access, or where their order loose
Invites th' attack, and points the way to fate.
All now is tumult, each heart swells with joy,
The falc'ners shout, and the wide concave rings,
Tremble the forests round, the joyous cries
Float thro' the vales, and rocks, and woods, and hills
Return the varied sounds. Forth bursts the Stag,
Nor trusts the mazes of his deep recess:
Fear hid him close, strange inconsistent guide!
Now hurries him aghast with busy feet
Far o'er the spacious plain; he pants to reach
The mountain's brow, or with unsteddy step
To climb the craggy cliff: The Grey-hounds strain
Behind to pinch his haunch, who scarce evades
13
In airy lab'rinths, or with easier wing
Skims by his side, and stuns his patient ear
With hideous cries, then peals his forehead broad,
Or, at his eyes her fatal malice aims.
The Other, like the bolt of angry heav'n,
Darts down at once, and fixes on his back
Her griping talons, ploughing with her beak
His pamper'd chine: The blood, and sweat distill'd
From many a dripping furrow stains the soil.
Who pities not this fury-haunted wretch
Embarrass'd thus, on ev'ry side distress'd?
Death will relieve him, for the Grey-hounds fierce,
Seizing their prey, soon drag him to the ground,
Groaning he falls; with eyes that swim in tears
He looks on man, chief author of his woe,
And weeps, and dies. The Grandees press around
To dip their sabres in his boiling blood;
Unseemly joy! 'Tis barb'rous to insult
A fallen foe. The Dogs, and Birds of Prey
Insatiate, on his reeking bowels feast,
But the stern Falc'ner claims the lion's share.
14
Such are the Sports of Kings, and better far
Than royal robb'ry, and the bloody jaws
Of all-devouring war. Each Animal,
By nat'rl instinct taught, spares his own kind:
But Man, the Tyrant Man, revels at large,
Free-booter unrestrain'd, destroys at will
The whole creation, Men and Beasts his prey,
These for his Pleasure, for his Glory Those.
Than royal robb'ry, and the bloody jaws
Of all-devouring war. Each Animal,
By nat'rl instinct taught, spares his own kind:
But Man, the Tyrant Man, revels at large,
Free-booter unrestrain'd, destroys at will
The whole creation, Men and Beasts his prey,
These for his Pleasure, for his Glory Those.
Next will I sing the valiant Falcon's fame,
Aerial fights, where no confed'rate brute
Joins in the bloody fray; but bird with bird
Justs in mid-air. Lo! at his Siege the Hern
Upon the bank of some small purling Brook,
Observant stands to take his scaly prize,
Himself another's Game. For mark behind
The wily Falc'ner creeps, his grazing Horse
Conceals the treach'rous foe, and on his fist
Th' unhooded Falcon sits: With eager eyes
She meditates her prey, and in her wild
Conceit, already plumes the dying bird.
Up springs the Hern, redoubling ev'ry stroke,
Conscious of danger stretches far away,
With busy pennons, and projected beak,
Piercing th' opponent clouds: The Falcon swift
Follows at speed, mounts as he mounts, for Hope
Gives vigour to her wings. Another soon
Strains after to support the bold attack,
Perhaps a Third. As in some winding creek,
On proud Iberia's shore, the corsairs sly
Lurk waiting to surprize a British sail,
Full-freighted from Hetruria's friendly ports,
Or rich Byzantium; after her they skud
Dashing the spumy waves with equal oars,
And spreading all their shrouds: She makes the Main
Inviting ev'ry gale, nor yet forgets
To clear her Deck, and tell th' insulting foe
In peals of Thunder, Britons cannot fear,
So flies the Hern pursued, but fighting flies.
Warm grows the Conflict, ev'ry Nerve's imploy'd;
Now through the yielding element they soar
Aspiring high, then sink at once, and rove
In trackless mazes through the troubled sky.
No rest, no peace. The Falcon hov'ring flies
Balanc'd in air, and confidently bold
Hangs o'er him like a cloud, then aims her blow
Full at his destin'd head. The watchful Hern
Shoots from her like a blazing meteor swift
That gilds the night, eludes her talons keen,
And pointed beak, and gains a length of way.
Observe th' attentive croud, all hearts are fix'd
On this important war, and pleasing hope
Glows in each Breast. The Vulgar and the Great,
Equally happy now, with freedom share
The common joy. The Shepherd-Boy forgets
His bleating care; the lab'ring Hind lets fall
His Grain unsown, in transport lost he robs
Th' expecting furrow, and in wild amaze
The gazing village point their eyes to heav'n.
Where is the tongue can speak the Falc'ner's cares,
'Twixt hopes, and fears, as in a tempest tost?
His flutt'ring heart, his varying cheeks confess
His inward woe. Now like a wearied stag,
That stands at bay, the Hern provokes their rage;
Close by his languid wing, in downy plumes
Covers his fatal beak, and cautious hides
The well-dissembled fraud. The Falcon darts
Like light'ning from above, and in her breast
Receives the latent death; down plum she falls
Bounding from earth, and with her trickling gore
Defiles her gaudy Plumage. See, alas!
The Falc'ner in despair, his fav'rite Bird
Dead at his feet, as of his dearest friend
He weeps her fate; he meditates revenge,
He storms, he foams, he gives a loose to rage:
Nor wants he long the means; the Hern fatigu'd
Borne down by numbers yields, and prone on earth
He drops: His cruel foes wheeling around
Insult at will. The vengeful Falc'ner flies
Swift as an arrow shooting to their aid;
Then mutt'ring inward curses breaks his wings,
And fixes in the ground his hated beak;
Sees, with malignant joy, the victors proud
Smear'd with his blood, and on his marrow feast.
Aerial fights, where no confed'rate brute
Joins in the bloody fray; but bird with bird
Justs in mid-air. Lo! at his Siege the Hern
Upon the bank of some small purling Brook,
Observant stands to take his scaly prize,
Himself another's Game. For mark behind
The wily Falc'ner creeps, his grazing Horse
Conceals the treach'rous foe, and on his fist
Th' unhooded Falcon sits: With eager eyes
She meditates her prey, and in her wild
15
Up springs the Hern, redoubling ev'ry stroke,
Conscious of danger stretches far away,
With busy pennons, and projected beak,
Piercing th' opponent clouds: The Falcon swift
Follows at speed, mounts as he mounts, for Hope
Gives vigour to her wings. Another soon
Strains after to support the bold attack,
Perhaps a Third. As in some winding creek,
On proud Iberia's shore, the corsairs sly
Lurk waiting to surprize a British sail,
Full-freighted from Hetruria's friendly ports,
Or rich Byzantium; after her they skud
Dashing the spumy waves with equal oars,
And spreading all their shrouds: She makes the Main
Inviting ev'ry gale, nor yet forgets
To clear her Deck, and tell th' insulting foe
In peals of Thunder, Britons cannot fear,
So flies the Hern pursued, but fighting flies.
Warm grows the Conflict, ev'ry Nerve's imploy'd;
16
Aspiring high, then sink at once, and rove
In trackless mazes through the troubled sky.
No rest, no peace. The Falcon hov'ring flies
Balanc'd in air, and confidently bold
Hangs o'er him like a cloud, then aims her blow
Full at his destin'd head. The watchful Hern
Shoots from her like a blazing meteor swift
That gilds the night, eludes her talons keen,
And pointed beak, and gains a length of way.
Observe th' attentive croud, all hearts are fix'd
On this important war, and pleasing hope
Glows in each Breast. The Vulgar and the Great,
Equally happy now, with freedom share
The common joy. The Shepherd-Boy forgets
His bleating care; the lab'ring Hind lets fall
His Grain unsown, in transport lost he robs
Th' expecting furrow, and in wild amaze
The gazing village point their eyes to heav'n.
Where is the tongue can speak the Falc'ner's cares,
'Twixt hopes, and fears, as in a tempest tost?
His flutt'ring heart, his varying cheeks confess
17
That stands at bay, the Hern provokes their rage;
Close by his languid wing, in downy plumes
Covers his fatal beak, and cautious hides
The well-dissembled fraud. The Falcon darts
Like light'ning from above, and in her breast
Receives the latent death; down plum she falls
Bounding from earth, and with her trickling gore
Defiles her gaudy Plumage. See, alas!
The Falc'ner in despair, his fav'rite Bird
Dead at his feet, as of his dearest friend
He weeps her fate; he meditates revenge,
He storms, he foams, he gives a loose to rage:
Nor wants he long the means; the Hern fatigu'd
Borne down by numbers yields, and prone on earth
He drops: His cruel foes wheeling around
Insult at will. The vengeful Falc'ner flies
Swift as an arrow shooting to their aid;
Then mutt'ring inward curses breaks his wings,
And fixes in the ground his hated beak;
18
Smear'd with his blood, and on his marrow feast.
Unhappy Bird! Our Fathers' prime delight!
Who fenc'd thine Eyrie round with sacred laws,
Nor mighty Princes now disdain to wear
Thy waving crest, the mark of high command,
With gold, and pearl, and brillant gems adorn'd.
Who fenc'd thine Eyrie round with sacred laws,
Nor mighty Princes now disdain to wear
Thy waving crest, the mark of high command,
With gold, and pearl, and brillant gems adorn'd.
Now if the crystal stream delight thee more,
Sportsman, lead on, where through the reedy bank
Th' insinuating waters filter'd stray
In many a winding maze. The Wild-Duck there
Gluts on the fat'ning ouse, or steals the spawn
Of teeming shoals, her more delicious feast.
How do the sun-beams on the glassy plain
Sport wanton, and amuse our wond'ring eyes
With variously reflected changing rays!
The murm'ring stream salutes the flow'ry mead
That glows with fragrance; Nature all around
Consents to bless. What Sluggard now would sink
In beds of down? What Miser wou'd not leave
His bags untold for this transporting scene?
Falc'ner, take care, oppose thy well-train'd Steed.
And silly stalk; unhood thy Falcon bold,
Observe at feed the unsuspecting team
Padling with oary feet: He's seen, they fly.
Now at full speed the Falc'ner spurs away
T' assist his fav'rite Hawk, she from the rest
Has singled out the Mallard young and gay,
Whose green and azure brightens in the sun.
Swift as the wind that sweeps the desert plain
With feet, wings, beak, he cuts the liquid sky:
Behoves him now both oar and sail; for see,
Th' unequal foe gains on him as he flies.
Long holds th' aerial course, they rise, they fall;
Now skim in circling rings, then stretch away
With all their force, till at one fatal stroke.
The vig'rous Hawk, exerting ev'ry nerve,
Truss'd in mid-air bears down her captive prey.
'Tis well on earth they fall; for oft the Duck
Mistrusts her coward wings, and seeks again
The kind protecting flood: If haply then
The Falcon rash aim a decisive blow,
And spring to gripe her floating prey; at once
She dives beneath, and near some osier's root
Pops up her head secure; then views her foe
Just in the grasping of her fond desires,
And in full pride of triumph, whelm'd beneath
The gliding stream. Ah! where are now, proud bird!
Thy stately trappings, and thy silver bells,
Thy glossy plumage, and thy silken crest?
Say, tyrant of the skies! Wou'dst thou not now
Exchange with thy but late desponding foe
Thy dreadful talons, and thy polish'd beak
For her web-feet despis'd? How happy they!
Who when gay pleasure courts, and fortune smiles,
Fear the reverse, with caution tread those paths,
Where roses grow, but wily vipers creep?
Sportsman, lead on, where through the reedy bank
Th' insinuating waters filter'd stray
In many a winding maze. The Wild-Duck there
Gluts on the fat'ning ouse, or steals the spawn
Of teeming shoals, her more delicious feast.
How do the sun-beams on the glassy plain
Sport wanton, and amuse our wond'ring eyes
With variously reflected changing rays!
19
That glows with fragrance; Nature all around
Consents to bless. What Sluggard now would sink
In beds of down? What Miser wou'd not leave
His bags untold for this transporting scene?
Falc'ner, take care, oppose thy well-train'd Steed.
And silly stalk; unhood thy Falcon bold,
Observe at feed the unsuspecting team
Padling with oary feet: He's seen, they fly.
Now at full speed the Falc'ner spurs away
T' assist his fav'rite Hawk, she from the rest
Has singled out the Mallard young and gay,
Whose green and azure brightens in the sun.
Swift as the wind that sweeps the desert plain
With feet, wings, beak, he cuts the liquid sky:
Behoves him now both oar and sail; for see,
Th' unequal foe gains on him as he flies.
Long holds th' aerial course, they rise, they fall;
Now skim in circling rings, then stretch away
With all their force, till at one fatal stroke.
The vig'rous Hawk, exerting ev'ry nerve,
Truss'd in mid-air bears down her captive prey.
'Tis well on earth they fall; for oft the Duck
Mistrusts her coward wings, and seeks again
20
The Falcon rash aim a decisive blow,
And spring to gripe her floating prey; at once
She dives beneath, and near some osier's root
Pops up her head secure; then views her foe
Just in the grasping of her fond desires,
And in full pride of triumph, whelm'd beneath
The gliding stream. Ah! where are now, proud bird!
Thy stately trappings, and thy silver bells,
Thy glossy plumage, and thy silken crest?
Say, tyrant of the skies! Wou'dst thou not now
Exchange with thy but late desponding foe
Thy dreadful talons, and thy polish'd beak
For her web-feet despis'd? How happy they!
Who when gay pleasure courts, and fortune smiles,
Fear the reverse, with caution tread those paths,
Where roses grow, but wily vipers creep?
These are expensive joys, fit for the Great
Of large domains possess'd: Enough for me
To boast the gentle Spar-Hawk on my fist,
Or fly the Partridge from the bristly field,
Retrieve the covey with my busy train,
Or with my soaring Hobby dare the lark.
Of large domains possess'd: Enough for me
To boast the gentle Spar-Hawk on my fist,
Or fly the Partridge from the bristly field,
Retrieve the covey with my busy train,
Or with my soaring Hobby dare the lark.
21
But if the shady woods my cares employ,
In quest of feather'd game, my Spaniels beat
Puzzling th' entangled copse; and from the brake
Push forth the whirring Pheasant; high in air
He waves his varied plumes, stretching away
With hasty wing. Soon from th' uplifted tube
The mimic thunder bursts, the leaden death
O'ertakes him; and with many a giddy whirl
To earth he falls, and at my feet expires.
In quest of feather'd game, my Spaniels beat
Puzzling th' entangled copse; and from the brake
Push forth the whirring Pheasant; high in air
He waves his varied plumes, stretching away
With hasty wing. Soon from th' uplifted tube
The mimic thunder bursts, the leaden death
O'ertakes him; and with many a giddy whirl
To earth he falls, and at my feet expires.
When Autumn smiles, all-beauteous in decay,
And paints each chequer'd grove with various hues;
My Setter ranges in the new-shorn fields,
His nose in air erect; from ridge to ridge
Panting he bounds, his quarter'd ground divides
In equal intervals, nor careless leaves
One inch untry'd. At length the tainted gales
His nostrils wide inhale; quick joy elates
His beating heart, which aw'd by discipline
Severe, he dares not own; but cautious creeps
Low-cow'ring, step by step; at last attains
His proper distance; there he stops at once,
And points with his instructive nose upon
The trembling prey. On wings of winds upborne
The floating net unfolded flies; then drops,
And the poor flutt'ring captives rise in vain.
And paints each chequer'd grove with various hues;
My Setter ranges in the new-shorn fields,
His nose in air erect; from ridge to ridge
Panting he bounds, his quarter'd ground divides
In equal intervals, nor careless leaves
One inch untry'd. At length the tainted gales
His nostrils wide inhale; quick joy elates
His beating heart, which aw'd by discipline
Severe, he dares not own; but cautious creeps
Low-cow'ring, step by step; at last attains
His proper distance; there he stops at once,
And points with his instructive nose upon
22
The floating net unfolded flies; then drops,
And the poor flutt'ring captives rise in vain.
Or haply on some river's cooling bank,
Patiently musing, all intent I stand
To hook the scaly glutton. See! down sinks
My cork, that faithful monitor; his weight
My taper angle bends; surpriz'd, amaz'd,
He glitters in the sun, and struggling pants
For Liberty, till in the purer air
He breathes no more. Such are our pleasing cares,
And sweet amusements, such each busy drudge
Envious must wish, and all the wise enjoy.
Patiently musing, all intent I stand
To hook the scaly glutton. See! down sinks
My cork, that faithful monitor; his weight
My taper angle bends; surpriz'd, amaz'd,
He glitters in the sun, and struggling pants
For Liberty, till in the purer air
He breathes no more. Such are our pleasing cares,
And sweet amusements, such each busy drudge
Envious must wish, and all the wise enjoy.
Thus, most illustrious Prince, have I presum'd
In my obscure sojourn to sing at ease
Rural delights, the joy, and sweet repast
Of ev'ry noble mind: And now perchance
Untimely sing; since from yon neighb'ring shore
The grumbling thunder rolls; calm peace alarm'd
Starts from her couch, and the rude din of war
Sounds harsh in ev'ry ear. But righteous heav'n!
Britain deserted, friendless, and alone,
Will not as yet despair: Shine but in arms,
O Prince, belov'd by all! Patron profess'd
Of Liberty! with ev'ry virtue crown'd!
Millions shall croud her strand, and her white cliffs,
As Tenariff, or Atlas firm, defy
The break of seas, and malice of her foes;
Nor the proud Gaul prevail where Cæsar fail'd.
In my obscure sojourn to sing at ease
Rural delights, the joy, and sweet repast
Of ev'ry noble mind: And now perchance
Untimely sing; since from yon neighb'ring shore
The grumbling thunder rolls; calm peace alarm'd
Starts from her couch, and the rude din of war
Sounds harsh in ev'ry ear. But righteous heav'n!
Britain deserted, friendless, and alone,
23
O Prince, belov'd by all! Patron profess'd
Of Liberty! with ev'ry virtue crown'd!
Millions shall croud her strand, and her white cliffs,
As Tenariff, or Atlas firm, defy
The break of seas, and malice of her foes;
Nor the proud Gaul prevail where Cæsar fail'd.
FINIS.
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