1797] A HUNTING SONG. U 



XI. 



The pack made their play and did run 

 Above Ashburn to Bradley old moor ; 



Indeed it was very good fun ; 



Tho' the horses they thought it a bore. 



XII. 



O'er the brook, o'er the hills the hounds sped, 

 By Kniveton to Bradburu they went : 



" Old reynard take care of thy head, 

 For thy stoutness is nearly all spent." 



XIII. 



For Brassington town then he flew. 



But e'er Brassington town he could reach, 



They ran out of scent into view. 

 And fairly laid hold of his breech. 



XIV. 



Who hoop ! Sam Lawley he cries, 



Dick Fitz he did stand in amaze ; 

 And the company owned with surprise 



Such a chace they ne'er saw in their days. 



XV. 



Then sing not of chaces of old ; 



Of your Shirley Park run. Nonsense ! Pish ! 

 And let me (if I may be so bold) 



Conclude this poor song with a wish. 



XVI. 



May the peer remain free from his gout. 

 May his huntsman and horses be willing ; 



May his friends be both active and stout. 

 And his hounds never miss in their killing. 



