Classic Poem

A GREAT grey fox is out of the gorse
And over the grass and away;
The headland rings to the tramp of horse,
There is going to be riding to-day!
If you 'd see the play
As a good man may,
Now is the moment to bustle the bay,
For a straight-necked fox is out of the gorse
And over the grass and away!

A great grey flier; we 've seen him before,
For he led us last week, this fox,
Fifteen miles to the hills and more,
And to ground in the Goblin Rocks.
Forward he flings,
And he runs no rings,
But straight as a die, like a witch on wings,
He'll drive to the heights as he did before,
When he led us last week, this fox!

The hounds are on with a rousing cry,
Twenty couple of England's best,
Sworn that their straight-necked foe shall die
Ere the sun goes down in the West,
Knowing full well
That he will not dwell,
Hover or hide in copse or dell,
Though close at his brush be the rousing cry
Of twenty couple of England's best!

He will hold his course against cart and car,
Ploughman and shepherd and boy from school,
For to lay 'em a line both straight and far
This good fox knows is the golden rule.
Ringing may do
For the faint-heart crew,
Hugging the coverts and dodging through:
This one will turn for cart nor car,
Ploughman or shepherd or boy from school.

The horn is blowing a field in front;
A hat on the ridge says " Right! They 're right!"
This is the fox 'tis fame to hunt;
Straight as an arrow he makes his flight.
Lucky are we
If the end we see
And they pull him down ere the Goblin Tree.
The horn is blowing a field in front;
A hat on the ridge says " Right! They 're right!"

The great grey flier! Fate called for him.
The Goblin Rocks was his point once more,
But the dapples had torn him limb from limb
Or ever he won to his mountain door.
At the covert-gate
Men still relate
How never a fox went half so straight.
The great grey flier! Fate called for him,
And he runs to the Goblin Rocks no more!