Page:Hark, the hollow woods resounding.pdf/3

 Now their pleasure it is ending,

And the tears flow from his eyes;

Now no more for life contending,

Plunging forward, falls and dies.

Bright Sol, from the east spreads

His beauties around,

O'er mountain and valley so low;

The chase our delight when we follow the hound

And the musical sound of the huntsman's hallo!

This is our song—Dash dash along,

To chase the boar, streaming with gore,

With fiery eyes, his bristles rise

Still we, undaunted, tune our song,

With forward, my boys, dash dash along,

To the mellow-toned horn!