Historical & Legendary Ballads & Songs By Walter Thornbury. Illustrated by J. Whistler, F. Walker, John Tenniel, J. D. Watson, W. Small, F. Sandys, G. J. Pinwell, T. Morten, M. J. Lawless, and many others |
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The Return of the Bear-Hunters.
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 | Historical & Legendary Ballads & Songs |  |
The Return of the Bear-Hunters.
Shall I tell you how we killed the bear,
My boy Fritz with the golden hair?
I stuck in my hat this sprig of fir—
Your sister Clara, 't was picked by her.
My boy Fritz with the golden hair?
I stuck in my hat this sprig of fir—
Your sister Clara, 't was picked by her.
The bullets I'd rammed down hard and fast,
My horn athwart my breast I'd cast;
Yet I would not fire when from the bush
The hind leaped gaily—hoosh, hoosh, hoosh!
My horn athwart my breast I'd cast;
Yet I would not fire when from the bush
The hind leaped gaily—hoosh, hoosh, hoosh!
Because 't was the bear that day we sought;
The bear that our bravest dogs had fought.
On the mountain-side the echoes rang—
I saw his grizzly snout—bing-bang!
The bear that our bravest dogs had fought.
On the mountain-side the echoes rang—
I saw his grizzly snout—bing-bang!
Crack went the maple-twig by his ear;
None of the others went half so near.
Then he came at me; the dogs like chaff
He scattered; again I went piff-paff!
None of the others went half so near.
Then he came at me; the dogs like chaff
He scattered; again I went piff-paff!
This time he staggered, and rolled, and fell
Very near twice as deep as hell.
'T was love that helped me shoot so true;
Clara, 't was thinking, my own, of you!
Very near twice as deep as hell.
'T was love that helped me shoot so true;
Clara, 't was thinking, my own, of you!
I shouted to Rupert and Hans, “Holà!”
Then sounded my horn, Trara, trara!
I've promised Clara the thick brown skin
To line her father's cloak within.
Then sounded my horn, Trara, trara!
I've promised Clara the thick brown skin
To line her father's cloak within.
That's why I shot so well—kling-klang,
Hoosh, hoosh, trara, Heisa, bing-bang!
A magic bullet I'd cast that day:
Zamiel, harm me not, I pray.
Hoosh, hoosh, trara, Heisa, bing-bang!
A magic bullet I'd cast that day:
Zamiel, harm me not, I pray.
My boy Fritz, you're a hunter's son;
When you are fit to handle a gun,
You too shall make the old cliffs laugh
With the snap, crack, whistle, bing-bang, piff-paff!
When you are fit to handle a gun,
You too shall make the old cliffs laugh
With the snap, crack, whistle, bing-bang, piff-paff!
| Historical & Legendary Ballads & Songs | |