440 SCIENCE OF FOXHUNTING. 



Thy coat is now grey, and thy strength doth decay, 



But thy heart is as brave and as true 

 As when first we went forth on the hills in the north, 



In pursuit of the fleet-footed crew. 

 Men are to be found, who would kill the old hound, 



And his long years of service forget, 

 But a hand I'll ne'er lend to destroy my old friend, 



While there's life in the old hound yet. 



There's many a lass I've loved is dead, 



And many a friend grown old, 

 And unless with thee to the woodlands led, 



This weary heart grows cold ; 

 But as o'er hill and dale I fly, 



With thy voice to madden my brain, 

 All, all's forgot, as I shout to thee, 



" Yoicks ! have at him, old hound, again ! " 



THE END. 



Woodfall and Kinder, Printers, Milford Lane, Strand, W.C. 



