 | Hunting Songs |  |
I.
“Imported Vermin:”—say, thou scribbler, when
Those fiercer vermin on our coast alight,
Who bark with drumstick and with bayonet bite,
As daily threat thy brethren of the pen;
When England summons her true-hearted men,
(Whether invader to the chace invite
With foes or foxes, putting both to flight,)
Say, of these twain which best will serve her then.
Those fiercer vermin on our coast alight,
Who bark with drumstick and with bayonet bite,
As daily threat thy brethren of the pen;
When England summons her true-hearted men,
(Whether invader to the chace invite
With foes or foxes, putting both to flight,)
Say, of these twain which best will serve her then.
The joyous hunter, he who cheers the pack,
His fleet steed urging over vale and hill,
Who shuns no hardship and who knows no fear,
His fleet steed urging over vale and hill,
Who shuns no hardship and who knows no fear,
Or he, who bending o'er the desk his back,
In gas-lit office drives the flippant quill,
And talks of “vermin imports” with a sneer?
In gas-lit office drives the flippant quill,
And talks of “vermin imports” with a sneer?
| Hunting Songs | |