The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore Collected by Himself. In Ten Volumes |
I, II. |
III, IV. |
V. |
VI, VII. |
VIII, IX. |
X. |
The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore | ||
225
WIND THY HORN, MY HUNTER BOY.
Wind thy horn, my hunter boy,
And leave thy lute's inglorious sighs;
Hunting is the hero's joy,
Till war his nobler game supplies.
Hark! the hound-bells ringing sweet,
While hunters shout, and the woods repeat,
Hilli-ho! Hilli-ho!
And leave thy lute's inglorious sighs;
Hunting is the hero's joy,
Till war his nobler game supplies.
Hark! the hound-bells ringing sweet,
While hunters shout, and the woods repeat,
Hilli-ho! Hilli-ho!
Wind again thy cheerful horn,
Till echo, faint with answering, dies:
Burn, bright torches, burn till morn,
And lead us where the wild boar lies.
Hark! the cry, “He's found, he's found,”
While hill and valley our shouts resound,
Hilli-ho! Hilli-ho!
Till echo, faint with answering, dies:
Burn, bright torches, burn till morn,
And lead us where the wild boar lies.
Hark! the cry, “He's found, he's found,”
While hill and valley our shouts resound,
Hilli-ho! Hilli-ho!
The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore | ||