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A PLEA FOR THE ROYAL 

 BUCKHOUNDS. 



Bear with me, reader ; I'll find you diversion ; 



Lend me a moment, I'll show you the chase ; 

 Do not complain at this mental exertion, 



Bear with me, now, with a smile on your face. 



Come to the hill with me, watch them careering, 

 All the good fellows that met in the lane ; 



Yonder the bonny stag, softly appearing, 

 Yonder he comes to us over the plain. 



Hush, or you'll head him ; don't move — not a muscle 

 Mark his expression so wary and wild ; 



Standing erect he is game for a tussle, 

 Bold as a lion, yet meek as a child. 



Seeming so slow yet the fastest to follow, 



Facing the open he means it to-day, 

 Over the blackthorn he flies like a swallow, 



Secretly, silently, stealing away. 



Hark at the gallant pack gallantly chasing, 



Harvey's clear horn can be heard on the breeze. 



That modified music infers they are racing. 

 Hark to them ! hark to them ! over the trees. 



