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Hunting Songs

by R. E. Egerton-Warburton

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Song.
  
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 I. 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


81

Song.

I

Stags in the forest lie, hares in the valley-o!
Web-footed otters are spear'd in the lochs;
Beasts of the chace that are not worth a Tally-ho!
All are surpass'd by the gorse-cover fox!
Fishing, though pleasant,
I sing not at present,
Nor shooting the pheasant,
Nor fighting of cocks;
Song shall declare a way
How to drive care away,
Pain and despair away,
Hunting the fox!

II

Bulls in gay Seville are led forth to slaughter, nor
Dames, in high rapture, the spectacle shocks;
Brighter in Britain the charms of each daughter, nor
Dreads the bright charmer to follow the fox.
Spain may delight in
A sport so exciting;
Whilst 'stead of bull-fighting
We fatten the ox;
Song shall declare a way, &c.

82

III

England's green pastures are graz'd in security,
Thanks to the Saxon who car'd for our flocks!
He who reserving the sport for futurity,
Sweeping our wolves away left us the fox.
When joviality
Chases formality,
When hospitality
Cellars unlocks;
Song shall declare a way
How to drive care away,
Pain and despair away,
Hunting the fox!