 | The Poems of Robert Bloomfield |  |
119
HUNTING SONG.
I
Ye darksome Woods where Echo dwells,Where every bud with freedom swells
To meet the glorious day:
The morning breaks; again rejoice;
And with old Ringwood's well-known voice
Bid tuneful Echo play.
II
We come, ye Groves, ye Hills, we come:The vagrant Fox shall hear his doom,
And dread our jovial train.
The shrill Horn sounds, the courser flies,
While every Sportsman joyful cries,
“There's Ringwood's voice again.”
120
III
Ye Meadows, hail the coming throng,Ye peaceful Streams that wind along,
Repeat the Hark-away:
Far o'er the Downs, ye Gales that sweep,
The daring Oak that crowns the steep,
The roaring peal convey.
IV
The chiming notes of cheerful Hounds,Hark! how the hollow Dale resounds;
The sunny Hills how gay.
But where's the note, brave Dog, like thine
Then urge the Steed, the chorus join,
'Tis Ringwood leads the way.
| The Poems of Robert Bloomfield | |