Hunting Songs

fhly damn the Hunting Squire. The Earth Stopper. TERROR of henroofts! now from hollow fand-earth, Safely at nightfall, round the quiet farmftcad, Reynard on tiptoe, meditating plunder, Warily prowleth. Roufe thee ! Earth ftopper! roufe thee from thy flumber! Get thee thy worfted hofe and winter coat on, While the good houfewife, crawling from her blanket, Lights thee thy lantern. Clad for thy midnight filent occupation, Mount thy old doghorfe, fpade upon thy fhoulder, Wiry hair'd Vixen, wherefoe'er thou wendeft, Ready to follow. Though the chill rain drops, driven by the north wind, Pelt thy old jacket, foaking through and through thee, Though thy worn hackney, blind and broken winded, Hobble on three legs; Finilh thy night-work well, or woe betide thee, If on the morrow irritated Huntfman, Back'd by a hundred followers in fcarlet, Find the earths open ! The Old Brown Fore/t. BROWN Foreft of Mara! whofe bounds were of yore From Kellfborrow's Caftle outftretch'd to the fhore, Our fields and our hamlets afforefted then, That thy beatts might have covert?unhous'd were our men. II. Our King the firft William, Hugh Lupus our Earl, Then poaching, I ween, was no fport for a churl; A noofe for his neck who a fnare fhould contrive, Who fkinn'd a dead buck was himfelf flay'd alive ! Our Normandy nobles right dearly, I trow, They loved in the foreft to bend the yew bow; They wound their " recheat" and the...