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| Hoyt & Roberts, comps. Hoyt’s New Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations. 1922. |
| Chase, The |
| He thought at heart like courtly Chesterfield, Who, after a long chase o’er hills, dales, bushes, And what not, though he rode beyond all price, Ask’d next day, “if men ever hunted twice?” Byron—Don Juan. Canto XIV. St. 35. | 1 |
| They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care; They pursued it with forks and hope; They threatened its life with a railway-share; They charmed it with smiles and soap. Lewis Carroll—Hunting of the Snark. Fit 5. | 2 |
| The dusky night rides down the sky And ushers in the morn: The hounds all join in glorious cry, The huntsman winds his horn; And a-hunting we will go. Henry Fielding—And a-Hunting We Will Go. | 3 |
| The woods were made for the hunter of dreams, The brooks for the fishers of song; To the hunters who hunt for the gunless game The streams and the woods belong. There are thoughts that moan from the soul of pine And thoughts in a flower bell curled; And the thoughts that are blown with scent of the fern Are as new and as old as the world. Sam Walter Foss—Bloodless Sportsman. | 4 |
| Soon as Aurora drives away the night, And edges eastern clouds with rosy light, The healthy huntsman, with the cheerful horn, Summons the dogs, and greets the dappled morn. Gay—Rural Sports. Canto II. L. 93. | 5 |
| Love’s torments made me seek the chase; Rifle in hand, I roam’d apace. Down from the tree, with hollow scoff, The raven cried: “Head-off! head off!” Heine—Book of Songs. Youthful Sorrows. No. 8. | 6 |
| Of horn and morn, and hark and bark, And echo’s answering sounds, All poets’ wit hath ever writ In dog-rel verse of hounds. Hood—Epping Hunt. St. 10. | 7 |
| D’ye ken John Peel with his coat so gay? D’ye ken John Peel at the break of the day? D’ye ken John Peel when he’s far, far away, With his hounds and his horn in the morning? John Peel. Old Hunting Song. (“Coat so gray,” said to be in the original). | 8 |
| It (hunting) was the labour of the savages of North America, but the amusement of the gentlemen of England. Samuel Johnson—Johnsoniana. | 9 |
| With a hey, ho, chevy! Hark forward, hark forward, tantivy! Hark, hark, tantivy! This day a stag must die. John O’Keefe—Song in Czar Peter. Act I. Sc. 4. | 10 |
| Together let us beat this ample field, Try what the open, what the covert yield. Pope—Essay on Man. Ep. I. L. 9. | 11 |
| Proud Nimrod first the bloody chase began, A mighty hunter, and his prey was man. Pope—Windsor Forest. L. 61. | 12 |
| My hoarse-sounding horn Invites thee to the chase, the sport of kings. William Somerville—The Chase. | 13 |
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