THERE is exhilaration in the chase

Not bodily only! Bursting from the woods,
Or having climb'd some misty mountain's height,
When on our eyes a glorious prospect opes,
With rapture we the golden view embrace :

Then worshipping the sun on silver floods,
And blazing towers, and spires, and cities bright
With his reflected beams; and down the slopes

The tumbling torrents; from the forest-mass

Of darkness issuing, we with double force
Along the gaily-checker'd landscape pass,

And, bounding with delight, pursue our course.

It is a mingled rapture, and we find

The bodily spirit mounting to the mind.

Brydges.

ANCIENT HUNTING SONG.

HE hunt is up, the hunt is up!
Sing merrily we, the hunt is up:
The birds they sing,

The deer they fling,

Hey, nonny, nony, no;

The hounds they cry,

The hunters fly,

Hey, trolilo, trololilo.

The hunt is up, the hunt is up!

Sing merrily we, the hunt is up!

The wood resounds

To hear the sounds,

Hey, nonny, nony, no;

The rocks report

This merry sport,

Hey, trolilo, trololilo.

The hunt is up, the hunt is up!
Sing merrily we, the hunt is up!

Then hie apace

Unto the chase,

Hey, nonny, nony, no!

While every thing

Doth sweetly sing

Hey, trolilo, trololilo,

The hunt is up, the hunt is up!

Sing merrily we, the hunt is up!

Anon.