13 DASH ALONG TO THE MILLOW-TONED HORN.
Bright Sol, from the east spreads This beauties around, O'er mountain and valley so low; The chase our delight, when we follow the hound, And the musical sound of the huntsman's hallo!
This is our song-Dash, dash along, To chase the boar, streaming with gore. With fiery eyes, Iris bristles rise ; Still we, undaunted, tune our song, With forward, my boys, dash, dash along, To the mellow-toned horn!
COME, TELL ME WHERE THE MAID IS FOUND.
Come, tell me where the maid is found, Whose heart can love without deceit- And I will range the world around, To sight one moment at her feet.
O tell me where's her sainted home, What air receives her blessed sigh: A pilgrimage of years I'll roam, To catch one sparkle of her eve.
And if her cheek be rosy bright, While truth within her bosom lies ; I'll gaze upon her morn and night, Till my heart leave through my eyes.
