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Alone through the vale where the good pack are flying, 



The air is alive with those musical sounds. 



"Who-whoop !" they have got him,' "Who-whoop !" they 

 are crying, 



A farmer on foot takes the fox from the hounds. 



Oh ! well you may fasten the brush to his bridle, 



The gallant old horse is a hero to day ; 

 Oh ! well you may pat him and make him your idol, 



As proudly he watches the hounds as they bay. 



Look back, gallant steed, on a lifetime of glory. 



Along the long vista of deeds in the past ; 

 Look back, and recall it, the often told story 



Of one in the hunt who was game to the last. 



Look back as you sleep, with the moon on your stable, 

 Its light will add lustre and peace to your dream, 



And when at your work, ever willing and able, 



The thoughts of the past will bring life to the team. 



