The poetical works of John Nicholson ... Carefully edited from the original editions, with additional notes and a sketch of his life and writings. By W. G. Hird |
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 | The poetical works of John Nicholson |  |
The top of Almus cliff was red
With cheerful beams of morn;
The sun upraised his golden head,
When echo heard the horn.
With cheerful beams of morn;
The sun upraised his golden head,
When echo heard the horn.
The hounds into the valley ran;
The fox his cover broke;
The sounds cheer'd every sportive man—
The hills—the valleys spoke.
The fox his cover broke;
The sounds cheer'd every sportive man—
The hills—the valleys spoke.
85
Across the plain he took his way,
The hounds in music sung;
There ne'er was such a hunting day
Since Rugimont was young.
The hounds in music sung;
There ne'er was such a hunting day
Since Rugimont was young.
At Arthington the stream he took—
The hounds, the horses near,
Crossed the broad river like a brook—
They all were hunters there.
The hounds, the horses near,
Crossed the broad river like a brook—
They all were hunters there.
To Kirkby Hill they see him fly
As rapid as the wind;
The hounds pursue in tuneful cry,
With horsemen close behind.
As rapid as the wind;
The hounds pursue in tuneful cry,
With horsemen close behind.
The nuns of Arthington beheld
The glories of the chase,
And almost wished to quit the veil,
Though modest was each face.
The glories of the chase,
And almost wished to quit the veil,
Though modest was each face.
As swift the fox runs o'er the hills,
And close behind the hounds,
Borne on the winds the echo swells
The ever-varying sounds.
And close behind the hounds,
Borne on the winds the echo swells
The ever-varying sounds.
From Rugimont the sportive Lisle
Rode on the fleetest horse;
No hedge nor river, gate nor stile,
Could stop his hunter's course.
Rode on the fleetest horse;
No hedge nor river, gate nor stile,
Could stop his hunter's course.
86
Dreadnought and Ranger led the pack,
And Hector ran the third;
Next Skilful sung, and deep-mouthed Jack—
Such sounds were never heard.
And Hector ran the third;
Next Skilful sung, and deep-mouthed Jack—
Such sounds were never heard.
To Riffas Wood sly Reynard hies,
The best of hounds pursue;
The notes into a chorus rise—
All have him in the view!
The best of hounds pursue;
The notes into a chorus rise—
All have him in the view!
In vain he runs—he turns in vain
From hunters, hounds, and steeds;
He struggles hard the rock to gain,
But at its foot he bleeds.
From hunters, hounds, and steeds;
He struggles hard the rock to gain,
But at its foot he bleeds.
The dying fox seized many a hound,
While struggling hard for breath;
The gallant Lisle arrived the first,
And shouted at the death.
While struggling hard for breath;
The gallant Lisle arrived the first,
And shouted at the death.
The hunters wished that he had gained
His hold amid the rocks,
For Wharfdale never yet contained
For sport a better fox.
His hold amid the rocks,
For Wharfdale never yet contained
For sport a better fox.
| The poetical works of John Nicholson | |