As of the pack supreme, and in his speed
  And strength unrivalled.  Lo! cast far behind
  His vexed associates pant, and labouring strain
  To climb the steep ascent.  Soon as they reach
  The insulting boaster, his false courage fails,
  Behind he lags, doomed to the fatal noose,
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  His master’s hate, and scorn of all the field. 
  What can from such be hoped, but a base brood
  Of coward curs, a frantic, vagrant race? 
     When now the third revolving moon appears,
  With sharpened horns, above the horizon’s brink;
  Without Lucina’s aid, expect thy hopes
  Are amply crowned; short pangs produce to light
  The smoking litter; crawling, helpless, blind,
  Nature their guide, they seek the pouting teat
  That plenteous streams.  Soon as the tender dam
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  Has formed them with her tongue, with pleasure view
  The marks of their renowned progenitors,
  Sure pledge of triumphs yet to come.  All these
  Select with joy; but to the merciless flood
  Expose the dwindling refuse, nor o’erload
  The indulgent mother.  If thy heart relent,
  Unwilling to destroy, a nurse provide,
  And to the foster-parent give the care
  Of thy superfluous brood; she’ll cherish kind
  The alien offspring; pleased thou shalt behold
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  Her tenderness, and hospitable love. 
      If frolic now, and playful they desert
  Their gloomy cell, and on the verdant turf
  With nerves improved, pursue the mimic chase,
  Coursing around; unto thy choicest friends
  Commit thy valued prize:  the rustic dames
  Shall at thy kennel wait, and in their laps
  Receive thy growing hopes, with many a kiss
  Caress, and dignify their little charge
  With some great title, and resounding name
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  Of high import.  But cautious here observe
  To check their youthful ardour, nor permit
  The unexperienced younker, immature,
  Alone to range the woods, or haunt the brakes
  Where dodging conies sport:  his nerves unstrung,
  And strength unequal; the laborious chase
  Shall stint his growth, and his rash forward youth
  Contract such vicious habits, as thy care
  And late correction never shall reclaim. 
     When to full strength arrived, mature and bold,
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  Conduct them to the field; not all at once
  But as thy cooler prudence shall direct,
  Select a few, and form them by degrees
  To stricter discipline.  With these consort
  The stanch and steady sages of thy pack,
  By long experience versed in all the wiles,
  And subtle doublings of the various chase. 
  Easy the lesson of the youthful train,
  When instinct prompts, and when example guides. 
  If the too forward younker at the head
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  Press boldly on, in wanton sportive mood,
  Correct his haste, and let him feel abashed
  The ruling whip.  But if he stoop