530 THE ESSEX FOXHOUNDS 



II. 



How soft lies the valley asleep below, 



In the golden sunshine, as on we go, 



Down the long sweep of the hillside bare, 



Drinking sweet draughts of the vernal air ! 



The lark is raining his music down. 



The partridge whirrs up from the grass-tuft brown. 



Forrard away, &c. 



III. 



A stiff ox fence with its oaken rail — 

 Rap, rap, go the hoofs like a peasant's flail ; 

 A five-foot drop — see, the Roding brook. 

 Send him at it, don't stop to look ; 

 Dash through the quickset into the lane 

 Out on the other side, forrard again — 



Forrard away, &c. 



IV. 



Carefully now, at the ditch and bank. 

 Into the copse wood thick and dank ; 

 The violet hangs her timid head. 

 And cowers down in her lowly bed ; 

 The primrose opes wide her golden eyes. 

 And gazes upward in mute surprise. 



Forrard away, &c. 



V. 



A moment's check, one cast around ; 

 'Tis forrard again, with a furious bound, 

 Mellow and sweet their voices sound. 



