In this gay village hangs a wonderous sign,
The Hounds and Hare are the immense design.
There hunters crack their whips, and seem to bound
O'er every hedge, nor touch the mimic ground;
The huntsman winds his horn, his big cheeks swell,
And whippers-in make lagging terriers yell;
The sportive scene tempts many a wight to stay,
As to the school he drags th' unwilling way.
Around the front inviting benches wait,
Conscious of many a glass and sage debate;
The great man of the village cracks his joke,
Reads o'er the news, and whiffs the curling smoke;
Tells tales of old, and nods, and heaves the can,
Makes fixed decrees, and seems much more than man.
"Come, Jack, sit down. Thy father, man, and me,
Broke many a glass, and many a freak had we.
'Twas when he sought thy mother, at Carel Fair
(I mind the corn was very bad that year)
We met thy mother and my wife i' the street,
And took them into Beck's to get a treat;
Blind Joseph played, and I took out thy mother,
Thy father, he was shy, he got another;
And when I took her back, as you may see,
I whipp'd her blushing on thy father's knee.
Then in came Robin Bell, who lik'd her too,
And bit his lip, and turn'd both red and blue,
Teas'd her to dance, as you may see, and then
Kept her himself, nor brought her back again.
I fir'd at this, while up thy father rose,
Gave him a kick, and tweak'd him by the nose.
They stripped to fight, as you may see, and I
In seeing fair play got a blacken'd eye;
I durst not shew my face at home next day,
But bade my mother say I went away,
But kept my bed, i'fegs, as you may see;
Who is it now fights for their lasses? eh!"
The blacksmith laugh'd, the cobbler gave a smile,
And the pleas'd tailor scratch'd his head the while.