INDIAN SPORTING SONGS. 329 



SONG. 



Air ' The Harp that once through Tara's Halls.' 



i. 



The spear that once o'er Deccau dust 



The blood of wild boars shed 

 Now stands as stained in Deccan rust 



As if all boars had fled ; 

 So dies each spirit-stirring thought, 



And they who would have flown 

 With wild hogs bristly forms to sport 



Now ride to sport their own ! 



II. 

 No youth so hunting zeal doth fade 



The idle weapon heeds ! 

 The gore alone that taints its blade 



Tells of its former deeds ; 

 And thus that flush which taints each face 



Tells its own story too, 

 And proves the spirit of the chase 



Once found a home with you. 



III. 

 Then bid that spirit welcome home, 



High pledge the joyous guest, 

 And join my song, while bumpers foam 



To give the toast a zest. 

 Here's bottom to the horse we ride, 



Size to the boar we rear, 

 And nerve and skill to aid and guide 



The arm that wields the spear. 



Oriental Sporting Magazine,' 

 January, 1829. 



