Crafty miller, or, The mistaken batchelor/A favourite hunting song

a Favourite HUNTING SONG.

HArk! the huntsman's begun to sound the shrill horn,
come quickly unkennel the hounds,
'Tis a beautiful glittering golden ey'd morn,
⁠we’ll chase the fox over the grounds.

See yonder sits Reynard so crafty and fly,
⁠come saddle your coursers apace,
The hounds have a scent, and are all in full cry,
⁠they long to be giving him chace.

The horsemen are mounted, & steeds feel the spur,
⁠and swiftly they scour it along,
Rapid after the fox runs each musical cur,
⁠follow, follow, my boys, is the song.

Over mountains and vallies they skim it away,
⁠now Reynard's almost out of sight.
But sooner than lose him we'll spend all the day
⁠in hunting, for that's their delight.

By eager pursuing they have him at last,
⁠he's so tir'd, poor rogue, down he lies;
Now starts up afresh, young Snap has him fast,
⁠he trembles, kicks, struggles, and dies.

GLASGOW,
Printed by J, & M..Robertson, Saltmarket, 1802.