98 JOHN GALLON. 



Through, shaggy cleugh, by willow stump, they 



hunt each hover true ; 

 Old Wellington and Mitf ord still the wily game 



pursue. 

 The music of each favourite hound the sleeping 



otter wakes, 

 He dives and tries his wildest shifts as his dark 



path he takes. 



The sportsmen all join in the hunt, see where 



the bells they rise, 

 The otter's up and breathes, hurrah ! the cheers 



they reach the skies ; 

 He's down again, and down the stream by rugged 



rock and scaur, 

 The gallant pack pursue their game in imag'ry 



of war. 



Through darksome cleft, by thundering linn, 



are hounds and otter gone ; 

 John Gallon too so bold and true, to follow him 



not one. 

 But, ! in deep and treacherous pool, unseen 



to mortal eyes, 

 He's down, the daring hunter brave, he's down 



no more to rise. 



No more we'll hear his cherry voice so early in 

 the morn, 



