Young squire's frolic/A hunting song

A HUNTING SONG.

TUNE - BRIGHT PHOEBUS.

THe dark doth invite the dull sportsman with song,
Hasteaway, see the hounds eager trip it along,
Poor reynard’s exhausted, his breath is near spent,
Then away another sportsman, we’ll give him no vent.

CHORUS.

Tan tara, tan tara, salute the grey morn,
We’ll follow the sound of sweet sounding horn.

The high mettl’d Nimrod, with Spanker and Swift,
Will soon bring the victim unto his last shift;
Then follow, brave boys, and partake of the chace,
He is far out of view, but his footsteps we’ll trace.
Tan tara, tan tara, salutes the grey morn, etc.

Sly reynard he trips it o’er hill and o’er dale,
Yet still all his cunning can nothing prevail,
At length, he is caught, and as panting he lies,
The horn sounds thy victory, the miscreant dies.
Tan tara, tan tara, salutes the grey morn, etc.