Squtie jforester auD Uom /ll>oo&p 4.^ 



TOM MOODY 



BV CHARLES DIBDIN 



You all knew Tom Moody, the whipper-in, well, 



The bell that's done tolling was honest Tom's knell ; 



A more able sportsman ne'er followed a hound 



Through a country well known to him fifty miles round. 



No hound ever open'd with Tom near a wood, 



But he'd challenge the tone, and could tell if 't were good ; 



And all with attention would eagerly mark. 



When he cheer'd up the pack, hark ! to Rockwood, hark ! hark ! 



Hie ! wind up ! and cross him ! Now, Rattler, boy ! hark ! 



Six crafty earth-stoppers, in hunters' green drest, 

 Supported poor Tom to an earth made for rest. 

 His horse, which he styled his 'Old Soul,' next appear'd, 

 On whose forehead the brush of his last fox was rear'd : 

 Whip, cap, boots, and spurs, in a trophy were bound, 

 And here and there followed an old straggling hound. 

 Ah ! no more at his voice yonder vales will they trace ! 

 Nor the welkin resound with his burst in the chase ! 

 With ' Hie over ! Now press him ! Tally-ho ! Tally-ho ! ' 



Thus Tom spoke his friends ere he gave up his breath : 

 ' Since I see you're resolved to be in at the death, 

 One favour bestow — 'tis the last I shall crave — 

 Give a rattling view-halloo thrice over my grave, 

 And unless at that warning I lift up my head, 

 My boys, you may fairly conclude I am dead ! ' 

 Honest Tom was obeyed, and the shout rent the sky, 

 For every one joined in the tally-ho cry ! 

 Tally-ho ! Hark forward ! Tally-ho ! Tally-ho ! 



When the song was sung by Charles Incledon, the 

 famous Cornish tenor, at Drury Lane, it was rapturously 

 encored and became immediately popular. A party of 

 Shropshire fox-hunters, who had met Dibdin at Willey 

 Hall, went up to London on purpose to hear this elegy 

 on their departed whipper-in. They gathered in the 

 pit, but the tally-ho chorus, as rendered by Incledon, did 

 not at all satisfy their critical tastes, so they made their 



