Miss Rose Coghlan
Did ye ken our Rose as the Lady Gay,
Have ye heard her tell how she rode away,
To the crack of the whip at the break of day,
With the horse and the hounds in the morning?
Oh! the sound of the horn on the echoing hill,
And the cry of the pack as they ran at will,
And our dear Lady Gay,—I can hear her still,
As she told of the hunt in the morning.
Have ye heard her tell how she rode away,
To the crack of the whip at the break of day,
With the horse and the hounds in the morning?
Oh! the sound of the horn on the echoing hill,
And the cry of the pack as they ran at will,
And our dear Lady Gay,—I can hear her still,
As she told of the hunt in the morning.
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