The Poetry Corner

Hound And Huntsman.

By John Gay

Seeing yourselves are wise, ye smile On fools and folly for a while; But water wears the rocks, and sense Is wearied by impertinence. The wind was southerly, the sky Proclaimed that a good scent would lie - Forth from the kennel burst the hounds, As schoolboys sally out of bounds. They hailed the huntsman; he by name Greeted each dog, who thought it fame. See them obey command: when bade, They scattered thro' the copse and glade; They snuffed the scent upon the gale, And sought the remnant of a trail. Ringwood, a pup, on the alert, Was very young and very pert; He opened - from exuberant spirit - But old dogs heard the puppy in it; But when his note of "Full-cry" rose, The huntsman to the puppy goes, - Down falls the lash, - up rose the yelp, And murmured thus the puppy whelp: "Why lash me? Are you malcontent That I possess superior scent?" The huntsman answered: "Puppy slips Must be restrained by lash of whips; Puppies our scorn, not envy, raise - For envy is akin to praise. Had not that forward noisy tongue The patience of your elders wrung, You might have hunted with the pack; But now the whip assails your back: You must be taught to know your ground, And from a puppy grow a hound."