HOUNDS AT HORSE EXERCISE. IOl 



See, the chestnut's veins are swelling 

 On her neck, her blood is telling 

 As she bears me on the journey with her long and swinging 

 stride. 



Oh ! the hounds are fit and jolly 



As we jog them by the folly, 

 Oh ! they love an outing, bless you, for it makes them 

 bright and gay. 



O'er each wistful face uplifted, 



Thoughts of sport have sweetly drifted, 

 And I hear the rustling music of their feet upon the way. 



Till the end I shall remember 



These bright mornings in September, 

 With the silver river running with its heaps of drifting weed ; 



In the sky the clouds are racing, 



And below the lights are chasing 

 Every shadow in succession as it glides across the mead. 



And the music of the morning 



Floats along the golden awning 

 That is forming as the sunlight spreads and strengthens 

 into day ; 



And the sounds of nature mingle 



With the hounds, my senses tingle 

 As I hear the rustling music of their feet upon the way. 



All the countryside is ringing, 

 And the singing birds are singing, 



