 | Hunting Songs |  |
A Word ere we Start.
I
Boys, to the hunting field! though 'tis November,The wind's in the south;—but a word ere we start.—
Though keenly excited, I bid you remember
That hunting's a science, and riding an art.
134
II
The order of march and the due regulationThat guide us in warfare, we need in the chace—
Huntsman and Whip, each his own proper station,
Horse, hound and fox, each his own proper place.
III
The fox takes precedence of all from the cover;The horse is an animal purposely bred
After the pack to be ridden, not over—
Good hounds are not rear'd to be knock'd on the head.
IV
Strong be your tackle, and carefully fitted,Breast-plate and bridle, girth, stirrup, and chain;
You will need not two arms, if the mouth be well bitted,
One hand lightly us'd will suffice for the rein.
V
Buckskin's the only wear fit for the saddle;Hats for Hyde Park, but a cap for the chace;
In tops of black leather let fishermen paddle,
The calves of a fox-hunter white ones incase.
135
VI
If your horse be well bred and in blooming condition,Both up to the country and up to your weight,
O, then give the reins to your youthful ambition,
Sit down in your saddle and keep his head straight!
VII
Pastime for princes!—prime sport of our nation!Strength in their sinew and bloom on their cheek;
Health to the old, to the young recreation;
All for enjoyment the hunting-field seek.
VIII
Eager and emulous only, not spiteful;—Grudging no friend, though ourselves he may beat;
Just enough danger to make sport delightful!
Toil just sufficient to make slumber sweet!
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