X.

Then through the dell his horn resounds, From vain pursuit to call the hounds. Back limped, with slow and crippled pace, The sulky leaders of the chase; Close to their master's side they pressed, With drooping tail and humbled crest; But still the dingle's hollow throat Prolonged the swelling bugle-note. The owlets started from their dream, The eagles answered with their scream, Round and around the sounds were cast, Till echo seemed an answering blast; And on the Hunter tried his way, To join some comrades of the day, Yet often paused, so strange the road, So wondrous were the scenes it showed.