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