188 THE squiee's chestnut make. 

 THE SQUIRE'S CHESTNUT MAEE. 



A NEW HUNTING SONG. 

 Written for the present Work by J. P. Douglas, Esq. 



Away we go ! my mare and I, 



Over fallow and lea : 

 She's carried me twenty years or nigh — 



The best of friends are we. 

 With steady stride she sweeps along, 



The old Squire on her back : 

 While echoes far, earth's sweetest sound, 



The music of the pack. 

 Ah ! how they stare, both high and low, 

 To see the " Willey chestnut "go. 



Full many a time, from dewy morn 



Until the day was done, 

 We've follow'd the huntsman's ringing horn. 



Proud of a gallant run. 

 Well in the front, my mare and I — 



A good 'un to lead is she ; 

 For'ard, hark for'ard ! still the cry — 



In at the death are we.i 

 My brave old mare — when I'm laid low 

 Shall never another master know. 



The sailor fondly loves his ship. 



The gallant loves his lass ; 

 The toper drains with fever'd lip. 



His deep, fall-bottom'd glass. 

 Away ! such hollow joys I scorn. 



But give to me, I pray. 

 The cry of the hounds, the sounding horn, 



For'ard ! hark, hark away ! 

 And this our burial chant shall be. 

 For the chestnut mare shall die with me ! 



