Encumbering all the globe:  should not his care
  Improve his growing stock, their kinds might fail,
  Man might once more on roots, and acorns, feed,
  And through the deserts range, shivering, forlorn,
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  Quite destitute of every solace dear,
  And every smiling gaiety of life. 
     The prudent huntsman, therefore, will supply,
  With annual large recruits, his broken pack,
  And propagate their kind.  As from the root
  Fresh scions still spring forth, and daily yield
  New blooming honours to the parent-tree;
  Far shall his pack be famed, far sought his breed,
  And princes at their tables feast those hounds
  His hand presents, an acceptable boon.
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     Ere yet the Sun through the bright Ram has urged
  His steepy course, or mother Earth unbound
  Her frozen bosom to the western gale;
  When feathered troops, their social leagues dissolved,
  Select their mates, and on the leafless elm
  The noisy rook builds high her wicker nest;
  Mark well the wanton females of thy pack,
  That curl their taper tails, and frisking court
  Their pyebald mates enamoured; their red eyes
  Flash fires impure; nor rest, nor food they take,
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  Goaded by furious love.  In separate cells
  Confine them now, lest bloody civil wars
  Annoy thy peaceful state.  If left at large,
  The growling rivals in dread battle join,
  And rude encounter.  On Scamander’s streams
  Heroes of old with far less fury fought,
  For the bright Spartan dame, their valour’s prize. 
  Mangled and torn thy favourite hounds shall lie,
  Stretched on the ground; thy kennel shall appear
  A field of blood:  like some unhappy town
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  In civil broils confused, while Discord shakes
  Her bloody scourge aloft, fierce parties rage,
  Staining their impious hands in mutual death. 
  And still the best beloved, and bravest fall: 
  Such are the dire effects of lawless love. 
     Huntsman! these ills by timely prudent care
  Prevent:  for every longing dame select
  Some happy paramour; to him alone
  In leagues connubial join.  Consider well
  His lineage; what his fathers did of old,
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  Chiefs of the pack, and first to climb the rock,
  Or plunge into the deep, or thread the brake
  With thorns sharp-pointed, plashed, and briers inwoven. 
  Observe with care his shape, sort, colour, size. 
  Nor will sagacious huntsmen less regard
  His inward habits:  the vain babbler shun,
  Ever loquacious, ever in the wrong. 
  His foolish offspring shall offend thy ears
  With false alarms, and loud impertinence. 
  Nor less the shifting cur avoid, that breaks
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  Illusive from the pack; to the next hedge
  Devious he strays, there every mews he tries: 
  If haply then he cross the steaming scent,
  Away he flies vain-glorious; and exults