34
A Hunting Song ----ÂŻ----
I. What ho! What ho! Merrily over the moors we go; Oh! a hunter’s sport is the sport for me, So careless, joyous, fresh and free, As cheerily, merrily over the moors ride we. In the clear morn the bugle-horn Comes gaily sounding on the plain; But hark! again, again! Blow high, blow low! What ho! Tally-ho! Merrily, cheerily Over the moors we go.