PARTRIDGE SHOOTING 



THE FIRST OF SEPTEMBER 



Loiterer, arise ! tiie morn liatli kept 

 For thee her orient pearls unwept ; 

 Haste, and take them, while the light 

 Hangs on the dew-locks of the night. 

 See ! Aurora throws her fair 

 Fresh tinted colours through the air : 

 Come forth ! come forth ! 'tis very sin 

 And profanation to keep in ! 

 There's joy and gladness in the skies, 

 Loiterer, from thy couch arise ! 



Our life is short, our moments run 



Swift as the coursers of the Sun ; 



And, like the vapour or the rain. 



Once lost, can ne'er be traced again : 



Each flower hath wept, and eastward bow'd : 



The skylark, far above the cloud 



To hymn his song of praise is fled. 



And all the birds their matins said ; 



There's joy and gladness in the skies. 



Loiterer, from thy couch arise ! 



Haste, ere the sun hath drunk the dews 

 Boon Nature to her banquet woos ; 

 Around the smiling field no more 

 Are waving with their yellow store. 

 Homeward bears the loaded wain 

 The golden glories of the plain ! 

 And nut-brown partridges are seen 

 Gliding among the stubble screen : 

 There 's joy and gladness in the skies. 

 Loiterer, from thy couch arise ! 



J. W. C, Sporting Magazine, 1834. 



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