ng
O'er rough, o'er smooth, nor heeds the steepy hill,
Nor falters in the extended vale below:
Their garments loosely waving in the wind,
And all the flush of beauty in their cheeks!
While at their sides their pensive lovers wait,
_450
Direct their dubious course; now chilled with fear
Solicitous, and now with love inflamed.
Oh! grant, indulgent Heaven, no rising storm
May darken with black wings, this glorious scene!
Should some malignant power thus damp our joys,
Vain were the gloomy cave, such as of old
Betrayed to lawless love the Tyrian queen.
For Britain's virtuous nymphs are chaste as fair,
Spotless, unblamed, with equal triumph reign
In the dun gloom, as in the blaze of day.
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Now the blown stag, through woods, bogs, roads, and streams
Has measured half the forest; but alas!
He flies in vain, he flies not from his fears.
Though far he cast the lingering pack behind,
His haggard fancy still with horror views
The fell destroyer; still the fatal cry
Insults his ears, and wounds his trembling heart.
So the poor fury-haunted wretch (his hands
In guiltless blood distained) still seems to hear

The dying shrieks; and the pale threatening ghost
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Moves as he moves, and as he flies pursues.
See here his slot; up yon green hill he climbs,
Pants on its brow a while, sadly looks back
On his pursuers, covering all the plain;
But wrung with anguish, bears not long the sight,
Shoots down the steep, and sweats along the vale:
There mingles with the herd, where once he reigned
Proud monarch of the groves, whose clashing beam

His rivals awed, and whose exalted power
Was still rewarded with successful love.
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But the base herd have learned the ways of men,
Averse they fly, or with rebellious aim
Chase him from thence: needless their impious deed,
The huntsman knows him by a thousand marks,
Black, and embossed; nor are his hounds deceived;
Too well distinguish these, and never leave
Their once devoted foe; familiar grows
His scent, and strong their appetite to kill.
Again he flies, and with redoubled speed
Skims o'er the lawn; still the tenacious crew
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Hang on the track, aloud demand their prey,
And push him many a league. If haply then
Too far escaped, and the gay courtly train
Behind are cast, the huntsman's clanging whip
Stops full their bold career; passive they stand,
Unmoved, an humble, a