« PreviousContinue »
Divinely great; they in their powers exult, Of never-ending wonders, to conceive That wondrous force of thought, which mounting of the Sole Being right, who spoke the word, spurns
And Nature mov'd complete. With inward view, This dusky spot, and measures all the sky; Thence on th' ideal kingdom swift she tarns While, from his far excursion though the wilds Her eye; and instant, at her powerful glance, Of barren ether, faithful to his time,
Th' obedient phantoms ranis ; or appear; They see the blazing wonder rise anew,
Compound, divide, and into order shift, In sceining tertour clad, but kindly bent
Each to his rank, from plain perception up To work the will of all-sustaining Love :
To the fair forms of Fancy's ficeting train : From his huge vapoury train perhaps to shake To reason then, deducing truth from truth; Reviving moisture on the numerous orbs,
And notion quite abstract; where first begins Through which his long ellipsis winds; perhaps
The world of spirits, action all, and life To lend new fuel to decliving suns,
Unfetter'd, and unmixt. But here the cloud, To light up worlds, and feed th' eternal fire. So wills Eternal Providence, sits deep. With thee, serene Philosophy, with thee,
Enough for us to know that this dark state, And thy bright garland, let me crown my song ! la wayward passions lost, and vain pursuits, Eifusive source of evidence, and truth !
This infancy of Being, cannot prove A lustre shedding o'er th’ ennobled mind,
The final issue of the works of God, Stronger than summer-noon; and pure as that, By boundless love and perfect wisdom form’d, Whose mild vibrations soothe the parted soul,
ising with the rising mind.
The subject proposed. Addressed to Mr. Onslow. A The first up-tracing, from the dreary void, The chain of causes and effects to Him,
prospect of the fields ready for harvest. Reflec
tions in praise of industry raised by that view. The world-producing Essence, who alone
Reaping. A tale relative to it. A harvest-storm. Possessi's being ; while the last receives
Shooting and hunting, their barbarity. A luThe whole magnificence of Heaven and Earth,
dicrous account of fox-hunting. A view of an And every beauty, delicate or bold,
orchard. Wall-fruit. A vineyard. A description Obvions or more remote, with livelier sense,
of fogs, frequent in the latter part of Autumn : Diilisive painted on the rapid mind.
whence a digression, inquiring into the rise of Tutor'd by thee, hence Poetry exalts
fountains and rivers. Birds of season considered, Her voice to ages; and inforins the page
that now shift their habitation. The prodigious With music, image, sentiment, and thought,
number of them that cover the northern and Never to dje! the treasure of mankind !
western isles of Scotland. Hence a view of the Their highest honour, and their truest joy!
country. A prospect of the discoloured, fading Without thee what were uenlighten'd man?
woods. After a gentle dusky day, moon-light. A savage roaming through the woods and wilds,
Autumnal meteors. Morning: to which succeeds Iu quest of prey; and with th' unfashion's fur
a calm, pure, sun-shiny day, such as usually Rough-clad ; devoid of every finer art,
shuts up the season. The harvest being gathered And elegance of life. Nor happiness
in, the country dissolved in joy. The whole Domestic, mix'd of tenderness and care,
concludes with a panegyric on a philosophical Nor moral excellence, nor social bliss,
Crown't with the sickle and the wheaten sheaf, Of navigation bold, that fearless braves
Wbile Autumn, nodding o'er the yellow plain, The burning line, or dares the wintery pole;
Comes jovial on: the Doric reed once more, Mother severe of infinite delights !
Well pleas'd, I tune. Whate'er the Wintery Nothing, save rapine, indolence, and guile,
frost And woes on woes, a still-revolving train!
Nitrous prepar'd; the various-blossom'd Spring Whose horrid circle had made human life
Put in white promise forth; and Summer suns Than non-existence worse: but, taught by thee,
Concocted strong, rush boundless now to view, Ours are the plans of policy and peace;
Full, perfect all, and swell my glorious theme. To live like brothers, and conjunctive all
Onslow! the Muse, ambitious of thy name, Embellish life. While thus laborious crowds
To grace, inspire, and dignify her song, Ply the tough oar, Philosophy directs
Would from the public voice thy gentle ear The ruling helm; or like the liberal breath
A while engage. Thy noble care she knows, Of potent Heaven, invisible, the sail
The patriot virtues that distend thy thought, Swells out, and bears th' inferior world along.
Spread on thy front, and in thy bosom glow; Nor to this evanescent speck of Earth Poorly contin'd, the radiant tracts on high
While listening senates hang upon thy tongue
Devolving through the maze of eloquence Are her exalted range; intent to gaze
A roll of periods sweeter than her song. Creation through ; and, from that full complex
But she too pants for public virtde; she
With wholesoine viands fill'd his table, pour'd Though weak of power, yet strong in ardent will, The generous glass around, inspir'd to wake Whene'er her country rushes on her heart, The life-relining soul of decent wit : Assumes a bolder note, and fondly trics
Nor stopp'd at barren bare necessity; To mix the patriot's with the poet's flame. But, still advancing bolder, led him on
When the bright Virgin gives the beauteous days, To pomp, to pleasure, elegance, and grace; And Libra weighs in cqual scales the year; And, breathing high ambition through his soul, From Heaven's high cope the fierce effulgence Set science, wisdom, glory, in bis view, shook
And bade him be the Lord of all below. Of parting Summer, a serener blue,
Then gathering men their natural powers With golden light enliven'd, wide invests
The free, and tairly represented i hule ;
And, with joint force Oppression chaining, set Falls from its poise, and gives the breeze to blow. Imperial Justice at the helm ; yet still Rent is the fleecy mantle of the sky;
To them accountable; nor slavish dream'd The clouds fly different; and the sudden Sun That toiling millions must resign their weal, By fits effulgent gilds th’illunnin'd field,
And all the honey of their scarch, to such And black by fits the shadows sweep along. As for themselves alone theinselres have rais'in A gaily-cheekcr'd heart-expanding view,
Hence every form of cultivated life Far as the circling eye can shoot around,
lo order set, protected, and inspir'd, Unbounded tossing in a flood of corn.
Into perfection wrought. Uniting all These are thy blessings, Industry! rough power; Society grew numerous, bich, polite, Whom labour still attends, and sweat, and pain; And happy. Nurse of art! the city rear'd Yet the kind source of every gentle art,
In beauteous pride her tower-encircled head; And all the soft civility of life :
And, stretching street on street, by thousands drew, Raiser of human-kind! by Nature cast,
From twining woody haunts, or the tough yew Naked, and helpless, out amid the woods
To bons strong-straining, her aspiring sons. And wilds, to rude inclement elements;
Then Commerce brought into the public walk With various seeds of art deep in the mind The busy merciant; the big warehouse built; Implanted, and profusely pour'd around
Ruis'd the strong crane; choak'd up the loaded Materials inGinite; but idle all. Still unexerted, in th' unconscious breast,
With foreign plenty; and thy stream, O Thames, Slept the lethargic powers ; corruption still, Large, gentle, dep, majestic, king of foods! Voracious, swallow'd what the liberal hand Chose for his grand resort. On either band, Of bounty scatter'd o'er the savage year:
Like a long wintery forest, groves of masts And still the sad barbarian, roving, mix'd Shot up their spires; the bellying sheet between With beasts of prey; or for his acorn-meal Possess'd the breczy void; the sooty hulk Fought the fierce tusky boar; a shivering wretch! Steer'd sluggish on; the splendid barge along Aghast, and comfortless, when the bleak north, Row'd, regular, to harirony; around, With Winter charg'd, let the mix’d tempest fly, The boat, light skimmiog, tretch'd its oary wings, Hail, rain, and snow, and bitter-breathing frost: While deep the various voice of fervent toil 'Then to the shelter of the hut he fled;
From bank to hankincreas'd; whence ribb’d with oak And the wild season, soniid, pin'd away.
To bear the British thunder, black, and bold, For home he had not; home is the resort
The roaring vesscl rush'd into the main. Of love, of joy, of peace and plenty, where, Then tuo the pillar'd dome, magnific, heav'd Supported and supporting, polish'd friends, Its ample roof; and Luxury within And dear relations mingle into bliss
Pour'd out her glittering stores; the canvass smooth, But this the rugged savage never felt,
With glowing lite protuberant, *0 the view Lv'n desolate in crowds; and thus bis days Embodied rose; the stalic secni'd to breathe, Roll'd heavy, dark, and unenjoy'd along:
And soften into flesh, buncatb the touch
All is the gift of Industry ; whate'cr
xalts, embellishes, and renders life Where lavish Nature the directing hand
Delightful. Pensive Winter cheer'd by hira
Th' excluded tenpest idly race along;
Without him Summer were an arid waste; On what the torrent, and the gather'd blast; Nor to th' Autuinnel months could thus transmit Gave the tail ancient jurest to his axc;
Those full, mature, inmeasurable stores, Taught himn to chip lhe wood, and hew the stone, That, waving round, recall my wandering song. Tillby degrees the linishi 'd fabric rose;
Soon as the morning trembles o'er the sky, Tore froin his limbs the blood-pollute fur, And, udperceivd, unfolds the spreading day; And wrapt them in the woolly ve-tinent warm, Before the ripen'd fied the reapers stand, Oy bright in glossy silk, and flowing Lawa; Ju fair array; enok by the lass he loves
To bear the rougher part, and mitigate
He then, his fancy with autumnal scenes By nameless gentle offices her toil.
Ainusing, chanc'd beside his reaper-train At once they stoop and swell the lusty shcaves; To walk, when poor Lavinia drew his eye; While through their cheerful band the rural talk, Unconscious of her power, and turning quick The rural scandal, and the rural jest,
With unaffected blushes from his gaze : Fly harnıless, to deceive the tedious time, He saw her charming, but he saw not half And steal unfelt the sultry hours away.
The charms her downcast modesty conceal'd. Behind the master walks, builds-up the shocks ; That very moment love and chaste desire And, conscious, glancing oft on every side Sprung in his bosom, to himself unknown ; His sated cye, feels his heart heave with joy. For still the world prevail'd, and its dread laugh, The gleaners spread around, and here and there, Which searce the firm philosopher can scorn, Spike after spike, their scanty harvest pick. Should his heart own a gleaner in the field : Be not too narrow, husbandmen ; but fing And thus in secret to his soul he sigh'd. From the full sheaf, with charitable stealth,
“What pity! that so delicate a form, The liberal handful. Think, oh, grateful think! By beauty kindled, where enlivening seose How good the God of Harvest is to you;
And more than vulgar goodness seem to dwell, Who pours abundance o'er your flowing fields; Should be devoted to the rude embrace While these unhappy partners of your kind Of some indecent clown! She looks, methinks, Wide-hover round you like the fowls of Heaven, Of old Acasto's line; and to my mind And ask their humble dole. The various turns Recalls that patron of my happy life, Of fortune ponder; that your sons may want
From whom my liberal fortune took its rise; What now, with hard reluctance, fajat, ye give. Now to the dust gone down; his houses, lands,
The lovely young Lavinia once had friends; And once fair-spreading family, dissolv’d. And Fortune smil'd, deceitful, on her birth. 'Tis said that in some lone obscure retreat, For, in her helpless years deprived of all,
Urg'd by remembrance sad, and decent pride, Of every stay, save Innocence and Heaven, Far from those scenes which knew their better She, with her widow'd mother, feeble, old, His aged widow and his daughter live, [days, And poor, livd in a cottage, far retird
Whom yet my fruitless search could never find. Among the windings of a woody vale;
Romantic wish! would this the daughter were !” By solitude and deep surrounding shades,
When, strict inquiring, from herself he found But more by bashful modesty, conceal'd.
She was the same, the daughter of his friend, Together thus they shunn'd the cruel scorn Of bountiful Acasto; who can speak Which virtue, sunk to poverty, would meet The mingled passions that surpris'd his heart, From giddy passion and low-minded pride : And through his nerves in shivering transport ran? Almost on Nature's common bounty fed ;
Then blaz'd his smother'a fame, avow'd, and bold; Like the gay birds that sung them to repose,
And as he view'd her, ardent, o'er and o'er, Content, and careless of to morrow's fare. Love, gratitude, and pity, wept at once. Her form was fresher than the morning rose, Confus'd, and frighten’d at his sudden tears, When the dew wets its leaves; unstain'd and Her rising beauties flush'd a higher bloom, pure,
As thus Palemon, passionate and just, As is the lily, or the mountain snow.
Pour'd out the pious rapture of his soul. The modest virtues mingled in her eyes,
“ And art thou then Acasto's dear remains ? Still on the ground dejected, darting all
She, whom my restless gratitude has sought Their buinid beams into the blooming flowers : So long in vain? O, Heavens ! the very same, Or when the mournful tale her mother told, The soften'd image of my noble friend, Of what her faithless fortune promis'd once, Alive his every look, his every feature, Thrill'd in her thought, they, like the dewy star More elegantly touch'd. Sweeter than Spring! Of evening, shone in tears. A native grace Thou sole surviving blossom from the root Sat fair-proportion'd on her polish'd limbs, That nourish'd up my fortune ! say, ah where, Veil'd in a simple robe, their best attire,
In what sequester'd desert, hast thou drawn Beyond the pomp of dress ; for loveliness
The kindest aspect of delighted Heaven? Needs not the foreign aid of ornament,
Into such beauty spread, and blown so fair; But is when unadorn'd adorn'd the most.
Though poverty's cold wind, and crushing rain, Thoughtless of beauty, she was Beauty's self, Beat keen, and heavy, on thy tender years? Recluse amid the close-embowering woods.
O let me now, into a richer soil, [showers, As in the hollow breast of Appennine,
Transplant thee safe! where vernal suns, and Bencath the shelter of encircling hills
Diffuse their warmest, largest influence, A myrtle rises, far from human eye,
And of my garden be the pride, and joy ! And breathes its balmy fragrance o'er the wild ; Il it befits thee, oh, it ill befits So flourish'd blooming, and unseen by all, Acasto's daughter, his whose open stores, The sweet Lavinia ; till, at length, compelld Though vast, were little to his ampler heart, By strong Necessity's supreme command,
The father of a country, thus to pick With smiling patience ia her looks, she went The very refuse of those harvest-fields, To glean Palemou's fields. The pride of swains Which from his bounteons friendsbip I enjoy. Palemon was, the generous, and the rich; Then throw that shameful pittance from thy hand, Who led the rural life in all its joy
But ill apply'd to such a rugged task; Aud elegance, such as Arcadian song
The fields, the master, all, my fair, are thine ; 'Transmits from ancient uncorrupted times; If to the various blessings which thy house When tyrant custom had not shackled man, Has on me lavish'd, thou wilt add that bliss, But free to follow nature was the mode.
That dearest bliss, the power of blessing thee!"
Here ceas'd the youth, yet still his speaking eye | Stiff, by the tainted gale, with open nose, Express'd the sacred triumph of his soul,
Out-stretch'd, and finely sensible, draws full, With conscious virtue, gratitude, and love, Fearful, and cautious, on tbe latent prey; Above the vulgar joy divinely rais'd.
As in the sun the circling corey bask Nor waited be reply. Won by the charm Their varied plumes, and watchful every way, Of goodness irresistible, and all
Though the rough stubble turn the secret rye. In sweet disorder lost, she blush'd consent.
Caught in the ineshy snare, in vain they beat The news immediate to her mother brought, Their idle wings, entangled more and more : While, pierc'd with anxious thought, she pin'd away Nor on the surges of the boundless air, The lonely moments for Lavinia's fate;
Though borne triumphant, are they safe; the gun, Amaz'd, and scarce believing what she heard, Glanc'd just, and sudden, from the fowler's eye, Joy seiz'd her wither'd veins, and one briglit gleam O’ertakes their sounding pinions; and again, Of setting life shone on her evening hours:
Immediate, brings them from the towering wing, Not less enraptur'd than the happy pair;
Dead to the ground: or drives them wide-dispers'd, W'ho fourish'd long in tender bliss, and rear'd Wounded, and wheeling various, down the wind. A numerous offspring, lovely like themselves, These are not subjects for the peaceful Muse, And good, the grace of all the country round. Nor will she stain with such her spotless song ; Defeating oft the labours of the year,
Then inost delighted, when she social sees The sultry south collects a potent blast.
The whole mix'd animal creation round At first, the groves are scarcely seen to stir Alive, and happy. 'Tis not joy to her, Their trembling tops, and a still murmur runs This falsely-cheerful barbarous game of death; Along the soft-inclining fields of corn.
This rage of pleasure, which the restless youth But as th' atrial tempest fuller swells,
Awakes, impatient, with the gleaming morn; And in one mighty stream, invisible,
When beasts of prey retire, that all night long, Immense, the whole excited atmosphere,
Urg'd by necessity, had rang'd the dark, Impetuous rushes o'er the sounding world : As if their conscious ravage shunn'd the light, Straind to the root, the stooping forest pours Asham'd. Not so the steady tyrant man, A rustling shower of yet untimely leaves,
Who with the thoughtless insolence of power High-beat, the circling mountains eddy in, Inflam'd, beyond the most infuriate wrath From the bare wild, the dissipated storm,
Of the worst monster that e'er roam'd the waste, And send it in a torrent down the vale.
For sport alone pursues the cruel chase, Expos'd, and naked, to its utmost rage,
Amid the beamings of the gentle days. Through all the sea of harvest rolling round, l'nbraid, ye ravening tribes, our wanton rage, The billowy plain floats wide; nor can erade, For bunger kindles you, and lawless want ; 'Though pliant to the blast, its seizing force; But lavish fed, in Nature's bounty roll'd, Or whirl'd in air, or iuto vacant chatt
To joy, at anguish, and delight in blood, Shook waste. And sometimes too a burst of rain, Is what your horrid bosoms never knew. Swept from the black horizon, broad, descends Poor is the triunph o'er the timid hare! In one continuous flood. Still over head
Scar'd from the corn, and now to some loue seat 'The mingling tempest weaves its gloom, and still Retird: the rushy ten; the ragged furze, The deluge deepens; till the fields around Stretch'd o'er the stony heath ; the stubble chapt; Lie sunk, and hatted, in the sordid wave.
The thistly lawn, the thick entanglcı broom ; Sudden, the ditches swell; the meadows swim. Of the same friendly hue, the wither'd fern; Red, from the hills, innumerable streains
The fallow ground laid open to the Sun, Tumultuous roar; and high above its banks Concoctive; and the nodding sandy bank, The river lift ; before whose rushing tide,
Hung o'er the mazes of the mountain brook. Ilerds, flocks, and harvest, cottages, and swains, Vain is her best precaution; though she sits Roll mingled down , all that the winds had spar'd Couceald, with folded ears; unsleeping eyes, In one wild moment, ruin'd; the big hopes, By Nature rais'd to take th' horizon in; and well-earn'd treasures of the painful year. And head couch'd close betwixt her hairy feet, Fled to some eminence, the husbandman
In act to spring away. The scented dew Helpless beholds the miserable wreck
Betrays her early labyrinth ; and deep, Driving along ; his drowning ox at once
In scatter'd sullen openings, far bebind, Descending, with his labours scatter'd round, Witb every breeze she hears the coming storm. He sees; and instant o'er his shivering thought But nrarer, and more frequent, as it loads Comes Winter unprovided, and a train
The sighing gale, she springs amaz’d, and all Of clamant children dear. Ye masters, then, T'he savage soul of game is up at once : Be mindful of the rongh laborious hand,
The pack full-opening, various; the shrill horn That sinks you soft in elegance and ease;
Resounded from the hills; the neighing steed, Be mindful of those limbs in russct clad
Wild for the chase: and the loud hunter's shout; Whose toil to yours is warmth, and graceful pride; O'er a wenk, harmless, fying creature, all And, oh! be mindful of that sparing board, Mix'd in mad tumult, and discordant joy. Which covers yours with luxury profuse,
The stag too, singled from the herd, where long Makes your glass sparkle, and your sense rejoice! He rang'd the branching monarch of the shades, Nor cruelly demand what the deep rains
Before the tempest drives. At first, in speed And all-involving winds have swept away.
He, sprightly, puts his faith; and, rous'd by fear, Here the rude clamour of the sportsman's joy, Gives all his swift aërial soul to flight; The gun fast-thundering, and the winded horn, Against the breeze he darts, that way the more Would tempt the Muse to sing the rural game : To leave the lessening murderous cry behind : How, in his mid-career, the spaniel struck, Deception short ; though fleeter than the winds
Blown o'er the keen-air'd mountains by the north, Beneath the smoking surloin, stretch'd immense He bursts the thickets, glances through the glades, From side to side; in which, with desperate knife And plunges deep into the wildest wood;
They deep incision make, and talk the while If slow, yet sure, adhesive to the track
Of England's glory, ne'er to be defac'd
While hence they borrow vigour: or amain
Reluting all the glories of the chase.
Swell'd high with fiery juice, steams liberal round Oft in the full-descending flood he tries
A potent gale, delicious as the breath To lose the scent, and lave his burning sides : Of Maja to the love-sick shepherdess, Oft secks the herd; the watchful herd, alarm'd, On violets diffus'd, while soft she hears With selfish care avoid a brother's woe.
Her panting shepherd stealing to her arms. What shall he do? His once so vivid nerves, Nor wanting is the brown October, drawn, So full of buoyant spirit, now no more
Mature and perfect, from his dark retreat Inspire the course, but fainting breathless tail, Of thirty years; and now his honest front Sick, seizes on his heart: he stands at bay; Flames in the light refulgent, not afraid And puts his last weak refuge in despair.
Ev'n with the vineyard's best produce to vie. The big round tears run down his dappled facr; To cheat the thirsty moments, Whist a while He groans in anguish; while the growling pack, Walks his dull round, bencath a cloud of smoke, Blood-happy, hang at his fair jutting chest, Wreath'd fragrant from the pipe; or the quick dice, And mark his beauteous cheeker'd sides with gore. In thunder leaping from the box, awake
Of this enough. But if the sylvan youth, The sounding gammon: while romp-loving miss Whose fervent blood boils into violence,
Is haul'd about, in gallantry robust. Must have the chase; behold, despising flight, At last these puling idlenesses laid The rous'd up lion, resolute, and slow,
Aside, frequent and full, the dry divan Advancing full on the protended spear,
Close in firm circle ; and set, ardent, in And coward-band, that circling wheel aloof. For serious drinking. Nor evasion sly, Slunk from the cavern, and the troubled wood, Nor sober shift, is to the puking wretch See the grim wolf; on him his shaggy foe
Indulg'd apart; but earnest, brimming bowls Vindictive fix, and let the ruffian die:
Lave every soul, the table floating round, Or, growling horrid, as the brindled boar
And parement, faithless to the fuddled foot. Grins fell destruction, to the monster's heart Thus as they swiin in mutual swill, the talk, Let the dart lighten from the nervous arm.
Vociferous at once from twenty tongues, shounds, These Britain knows not; give, ye Britons, then Reels fast from theme to theme ; fmin horses, Your sportive fury, pityless, to pour
To church or mistress, politics or ghost,
In endless mazes, intricate, perplex’d.
Th’impatient catch bursts from the joyous hcart;
Mix in the music of the day again. [hounds And as you ride the torrent, to the banks
As when the tempest, that has vex'd the deep Your triumph sound sonorous, running round, The dark night long, with fainter murmurs falls: From rock to rock, in circling echoes tost;
So gradual sinks their mirth. Their feeble tongues Then scale the mountains to their woody tops ; Unable to take up the cumbrous word, Rush down the dangerous steep; and o'er the lawn, Lie quite dissolv'd. Before their maudlin eyes, In fancy swallowing up the space between,
Seen dim, and blue, the double tapers dance, Pour all your speed into the rapid game,
Like the Sun wading through the misty sky. For happy he! who tops the wheeling chase; Then sliding soft, they drop. Confus'd above, Has every maze evolv'd, and every guile
Glasses and bottles, pipes and gazetteers, Disclos'd; who knows the merits of the pack; As it the table evin itself was drunk, Who saw the villain seiz'd, and dying hard, Lie a wet broken scene; and wide, below, Without complaint, though by an hundred mouths Is heap'd the social slaughter; where astride Relentless torn: O glorious he, beyond
The lubber power in filthy triumph sits, Ilis daring peers! when the retreating horn Sluinberous, inclining still from side to side, Calls them to ghostly halls of grey renown, And steeps them drench'd in potent sleep till morp. With woodland honours grac'd; the for's fur, Perhaps some doctor, of tremendous paunch, Depending decent from the roof; and spread Awful and deep, a black abyss of drink, Round the drear walls, with antic figures fierce, Out-lives them all; and from his bury'd flock The stag's large front: he then is loudest heard, Retiring, full of rumination sad, When the night staggers with severer toils,
Laments the weakness of these latter times. With feats 'Thessalian Centaurs never knew,
But if the rougher sex by this fierce sport And their repeated wonders shake the dome. Is hurried wild, let not such horrid joy But first the fuel'd chimney blazes wide;
E'er stain the bosom of the British fair. The tankards foam; and the strong table groans Far be the spirit of the chase from them'. .