HUNTING SONGS 



Ned was booted to perfection. 

 Better rider there was none, 



But jealousy, when mounted. 



Was the spur that prick'd him on. 



To him the run was wormwood, 

 No enioyment in the burst. 



Unless he led the gallop, 



And was foremost of the first. 



Jack, who never said, like Horner, 

 " How good a boy am I," 



Sat listening at the corner 

 Of the table meek and shy ; 



No word he spoke, till question'd 

 On what horse he rode to-day ? 



Then modestly he answer'd, 

 " I have nothing but the Bay." 



Breakfast over on they canter, 

 Till the covert-side they reach ; 



When you hear my story ended. 

 You will know the worth of each. 



PART II. THE DINNER 



At night again they gather'd 

 Round a board of ample fare. 



And though myself a stranger guest, 

 They bade me welcome there. 

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