Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TOM MOODY, by ANDREW CHERRY

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TOM MOODY, by            
First Line: You all know tom moody, the whipper-in, well
Last Line: Tally-ho! Tally-ho!

You all know Tom Moody, the whipper-in, well;
The bell just done tolling was honest Tom's knell;
A sportsman more able ne'er followed a hound,
Through a country well known to him fifty miles round,
No hound ever opened with Tom near the wood,
But he'd challenge the tone, and could tell if 'twere good;
And all with attention would eagerly mark,
When he cheered up the pack, "Hark! to Rookwood, hark! hark!
High !--Wind him! and cross him;
Now, Rattler, boy! Hark!"

Six crafty earth-stroppers, in hunter's green drest,
Supported poor Tom to an "earth" made for rest;
His horse, which he styled his Old Soul, next appeared,
On whose forehead the brush of the last fox was reared;
Whip, cap, boots and spurs, in a trophy were bound,
And here and there followed an old straggling hound.
Ah! no more at his voice yonder vales will they trace,
Nor the welkin resound to the burst in the chase!
With "High over! now press him!
Tally-ho !--Tally-ho!"

Thus Tom spoke his friends ere he gave up his breath,
"Since I see you're resolved to be in at the death,
One favour bestow--'tis the last I shall crave,
Give a rattling view-holloa thrice over my grave;
And unless at that warning I left up my head,
My boys you may fairly conclude I am dead!"
Honest Tom was obeyed, and the shout rent the sky,
For every voice joined in the tally-ho cry,
Tally-ho! Hark forward!
Tally-ho! Tally-ho!

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