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23

SUNG AT THE HUNT OF 1868.

Now once again we've met, my boys,
To hunt the forest deer;
Now once again we 've met, my boys,
To share the Island cheer.
Then let us pledge our absent friends,—
O would they all were here!
For 't is our delight, this circle bright,
In the season of the year.
We love the cool October skies,
The sound of dog and gun;
We love the yearly gathering,
The stores of wit and fun.
We all come here with hearts as light,
As buoyant as the air;
O 't is our delight, this circle bright,
In the season of the year!
There 's music on the green hill-side,
There 's health in every breeze;
24

There 's surely something magical
Among these old beech trees.
Our youthful days return, with step
Elastic as the deer;
O 't is our delight, this circle bright,
In the season of the year!
With foot upon the dewy grass
And rifle in our hand,
Amidst the bright autumnal woods
We blithely take our stand.
And whether we hit or miss, my boys,
Though always not quite clear,
Still, 't is our delight, this circle bright,
In the season of the year.
A band of brother sportsmen met
To hunt the forest deer,
Naushon a sportsman's welcome gives,
To share her Island cheer.
We pledge the Major's joyous heart;
O would he too were here!
For 't was his delight, this circle bright,
In the season of the year.
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