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Farewell you huntsmen, that did hunt the hare |
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Farewell you hounds, that tired both horse and mare |
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Farewell you gallant faulkners everyone |
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The chief of all did live at snitterton |
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So to conclude both great and small |
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Those that are left, the lord preserve them all |
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As I on oker hill one day did stand |
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To view the world which I could not command |
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I turned my face to birchover out west |
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To view where greaveses used to have their nest |
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But out, alas! I found they were all gone |
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Not one was left to rest against a stone |
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I'll up to hassop, to hear them sing a mass |
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And there I'll find who made the old man pass |
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Muses be gone, to carlton top your banners |
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But call at haddon, where lived old john manners |
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Oh use him well, I strictly you command |
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For he was kind to the poor of engerland |
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Farewell you huntsmen, that did hunt the hare |
|
Farewell you hounds, that tired both horse and mare |
|
Farewell you gallant faulkners everyone |
|
The chiefs of all did live at snitterton |
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So to conclude both great and small |
|
Those that are left, the lord preserve them all |
