INDIAN SPORTING SONGS. 309 



'Mid festal times, in other climes, 



He'll think of days so dear, 

 And fill his cup and drain it up 



To Saddle, Spur, and Spear ! 



IV. 



But, while I sing, Time's rapid wing 



This lesson seems to teach : 

 The joy and bliss of sport like this 



Are still within our reach : 

 Then let's away at break of day, 



Ride vale and hill-top o'er, 

 Scale mountains' side or stem the tide 



To spear the flying boar : 

 And Time may then bring eve again, 



The while, at Pleasure's shrine, 

 To check his flight for one gay night 



We'll wet his wing with wine ; 

 And ere we part pledge hand and heart 



Once more to rally here, 

 To fill the cup and drain it up 



To Saddle, Spur, and Spear ! 



S. Y. S. 



