THE
FOX-CHACE:
OR,
The Huntsmens Harmony,
BY THE
Noble Duke of Buckinghams Hounds, etc.
To an excellent Tune much in Request. Licensd and Enterd according to Order.
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ALl in a Morning fair
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As I rode to take the Air,
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[?]eard some hollow most clearly;
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I drew my self nigher,
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To listen who they were
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[?]t were going a Hunting so early.
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I saw they were Gentlemen
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Who belongd to the Duke of Buckingham,
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[?]at were going to make there a Tryal;
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[T]o run the Hounds of the North,
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B[e]ing of such Fame and Worth,
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[?]d has not the like, without all Denial.
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Then in Wreckledale Scrogs
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We threw off our Dogs,
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[?] Place where her Lying was likely;
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But the like ner was seen
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Since a Huntsman I have been,
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[?]r Hounds found a Fox more quickly.
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There was Dido and Spanker,
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And Younker was there.
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And Ruler, that ner looks behind him;
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There was Rose and Bonny Lass,
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Who were always in the Chace:
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These were part of the Hounds that did find him.
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Mr. Tybbals cries, Away,
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Heark away, heark away.
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With that our Foot-huntsmen did hear him:
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Tom Mossman cries, Codsounds,
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Uncouple all your Hounds,
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Or else we shall never come near him.
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Then Caper, and Countess,
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And Comley were thrown off,
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With Famous, Thumper and Cryer,
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And several good Hounds beside,
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Whose Stoutness their was tryd,
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And not one in the Pack that did tire.
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Our Hounds came in apace,
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And we fell into a Chace;
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And thus we pursud this poor Creature,
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With English and French Horns
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We encouragd our Hounds this Morn,
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And our Cry it was greater and greater.
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It could not be exprest
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Which Hound ran the best,
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For they ran on a breast all together;
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They ran at such a rate,
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As you have not heard of late
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When they enjoyd him ore the Vallies together.
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Then to the Moor he twind,
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Being clean against the Wind,
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Thinking he might ha crossd it over;
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But our Hounds ran so hard
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They made this Fox afraid,
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And forcd him to return to his Cover.
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Up the Hills he runs along,
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And his Cover was full strong,
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[?] I think he had no great Ease ont,
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For they ran with such a Cry,
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That their Ecchoes made him fly;
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[?] Ill assure you our Sport it was pleasant.
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Then homeward he hies,
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And in Wreckledale he lies,
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Thinking the Wind it might save him;
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But our Hounds ran him so near
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That they posted him with Fear,
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And our Horsemen they did deceive him:
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For Squire Whitcliffe rode amain,
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And he whipt it ore the Plain;
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Mr. Watson his Horse did not favour;
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They rode up the highest Hills,
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And down the steepest Dales,
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Expecting his Life for their Labour.
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Mr. Tybbals rode his Part;
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Although this Chace was smart.
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Default they were at seldom or never;
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But ever by and by
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To the Hounds he would cry,
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Halloo, halloo, halloo; Heark away all together.
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Tom Mossman he rode short,
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Yet he helpd us in our Sport,
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For he came in both Cursing and Swearing;
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But when it was in his Powr,
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He cryd out, Thats our Lilly, Whore:
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Heark to Caper-man; now Slaughter-man runs near him.
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Then to Skipland Wood he goes,
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Being pursued by his Foes;
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Our Company soon after him did follow;
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And Untarpage there we had,
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Which made our Huntsmens Hearts full glad,
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For we gave him many a Holloo.
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So the Sport was almost done,
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And the Chase was almost run,
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He thought to ha crossd the River;
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But our Hounds being in,
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They afore him did swim,
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And so they destroyd him for ever.
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Then Leppin took a Horn,
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As good as ere was blown,
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Tom Mossman bid him wind his Death then;
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The Country People all
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Came flocking to his Fall:
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This was Honour enough for a French Man.
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So Whoo-up we proclaimd,
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God bless the Noble Duke of Buckingham:
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For our Hounds then had gaind much Glory;
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This was the sixth Fox,
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That we killd above the Rocks;
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And there is an end of the Story.
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