Note 386 — Chapter XXIII · HORSE-RACING, HUNTING, SHOOTING, &C.

Now at a Fault the Dogs confus'dly stray, And try t'unravel his perplexing Way; They trace his artful Doubles o'er and o'er, Smell every Shrub, and all the Plain explore, 'Till some stanch Hound summons the baffled Crew, And strikes away his wily Steps anew. Along the Fields they scow'r with jocund Voice, The frighted Hare starts at the distant Noise; New Stratagems and various Shifts he tries, Oft' he looks back, and dreads a close Surprize; Th' advancing Dogs still haunt his list'ning Ear, And ev'ry breeze augments his growing Fear: 'Till tir'd at last, he pants, and heaves for Breath; Then lays him down, and waits approaching death.[386]