Hunting Song

HUNTING SONG

1
YE darksome Woods where Echo dwells,
Where every bud with freedom swells
To meet the glorious day:
The morning breaks; again rejoice;
And with old Ringwood’s well-known voice 5
Bid tuneful Echo play.
2
We come, ye Groves, ye Hills, we come:
The vagrant Fox shall hear his doom,
And dread our jovial train.
The shrill Horn sounds, the courser flies,10
While every Sportsman joyful cries,
‘There’s Ringwood’s voice again.’
3
Ye Meadows, hail the coming throng;
Ye peaceful Streams that wind along,
Repeat the Hark-away: 15
Far o’er the Downs, ye Gales that sweep,
The daring Oak that crowns the steep,
The roaring peal convey.
4
The chiming notes of chearful Hounds,
Hark! how the hollow Dale resounds; 20
The sunny Hills how gay.
But where’s the note, brave Dog, like thine?
Then urge the Steed, the chorus join,
’Tis Ringwood leads the way.

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