Page:A Selection of Original Songs, Scraps, Etc., by Ned Farmer (1st ed.).djvu/49

 

Come, where is your starter, your judge, where is he?
Put a brace into slips, and some sport you shall see;
Hold hard! there, you horsemen! don't ride o'er the ground;
I ne'er saw this beaten but "pussy" was found.
Singing, gently, so ho! halloo! let 'em go,
We're sure of a find in this stubble, I know.

So ho! there! I told you; now give her fair play;
It shall all be fair coursing; no murder, to-day:
The hares, perhaps in weight may have lost half an ounce;
But after this frost, just see how they'll bounce.
Singing, gently, so ho! halloo! let 'em go,
Look, she slouches one ear—she's a fizzer, I know.

They're running like wildfire; the black dog's a turn:
Now the blue un's a go-by: she's off for the fern;
He has thrown, and has miss'd her; the black dog is in;
He's a mortal good judge that can tell which will win.
Singing, gently, so ho! halloo! let 'em go,
Each goes like an arrow just shot from a bow.