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II. What ho! What ho! Cheerily over the moors we go, Through bush and bramble, glade and glen, Rousing the pheasant in marshy fen, And startling the hare from its shady den; While by swift bounds the trusty hounds With eager jaw and panting hide Rush baying on beside – Bay loud, bay low! What ho! Tally-ho! Merrily, cheerily Over the moors we go.