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Tarporley Hunt Song.
I
The Eagle won Jupiter's favour,The Sparrow to Venus was dear,
The Owl of Minerva, though graver,
We want not its gravity here;
The Swallow flies fast, but remember
The Swallow with Summer is gone,
What bird is there left in November
To rival the Tarporley Swan?
II
Though scarlet in colour our clothing,Our collars though green in their hue,
The red cap of liberty loathing,
Each man is at heart a True Blue;
101
To stick to the pig-skin and throne;
We are all for a good constitution,
Each man taking care of his own.
III
Though the Sailor, who rides on the ocean,With cheers may encounter the foe;
Wind and steam, what are they to horse motion?
Sea cheers, to a land Tally ho?
The canvas, the screw, and the paddle
The speed of a thorough-bred lack,
When fast in the fox-hunting saddle,
We gallop astern of the pack.
IV
Quæsitum, that standard of merit,Where each his true level may know,
Checks pride in the haughty of spirit,
Emboldens the timid and slow;
The liquor that sparkles before us,
The dumb when they drink it can speak,
While the deaf in the roar of our chorus
A cure for their malady seek.
V
Forget not that other Red Jacket,Turn'd up with green laurel and bay!
The tri-colour'd banners that back it!
The might of their mingled array!
102
As comrades, though rivals in fame;
But fill to the brim that quæsitum
Which Friendship and Chivalry claim.
1855.
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