Page:Twine weel the plaiden (1).pdf/7

7

Hark away ‘tis the merry ton’d horn,

Calls the hunters all up with the morn,

To the hills and the woodlands we steer,

To unharbour the out-lying deer.

And all the day long this is our song,

This is our song,

Still hollowing & following so frolic and free

Our joys know no bounds,

While we’re after the hounds,

No mortals on earth are so jolly as we.

Round the woods when we beat how we glow

While the hills they all echo Hollow !

With a bounce from his cover the stag flies,

Then our shouts long resound through the skies

And all the day long, &c.