| |
| WHEN the pods went pop on the broom, green broom, | |
| And apples began to be golden-skinn’d, | |
| We harbour’d a stag in the Priory coomb, | |
| And we feather’d his trail up-wind, up-wind, | |
| We feather’d his trail up-wind— | 5 |
| A stag of warrant, a stag, a stag, | |
| A runnable stag, a kingly crop, | |
| Brow, bay and tray and three on top, | |
| A stag, a runnable stag. | |
| |
| Then the huntsman’s horn rang yap, yap yap, | 10 |
| And ‘Forwards’ we heard the harbourer shout; | |
| But ’twas only a brocket that broke a gap | |
| In the beechen underwood, driven out, | |
| From the underwood antler’d out | |
| By warrant and might of the stag, the stag, | 15 |
| The runnable stag, whose lordly mind | |
| Was bent on sleep, though beam’d and tined | |
| He stood, a runnable stag. | |
| |
| So we tufted the covert till afternoon | |
| With Tinkerman’s Pup and Bell-of-the-North; | 20 |
| And hunters were sulky and hounds out of tune | |
| Before we tufted the right stag forth, | |
| Before we tufted him forth, | |
| The stag of warrant, the wily stag, | |
| The runnable stag with his kingly crop, | 25 |
| Brow, bay and tray and three on top, | |
| The royal and runnable stag. | |
| |
| It was Bell-of-the-North and Tinkerman’s Pup | |
| That stuck to the scent till the copse was drawn. | |
| ‘Tally ho! tally ho!’ and the hunt was up, | 30 |
| The tufters whipp’d and the pack laid on, | |
| The resolute pack laid on, | |
| And the stag of warrant away at last, | |
| The runnable stag, the same, the same, | |
| His hoofs on fire, his horns like flame, | 35 |
| A stag, a runnable stag. | |
| |
| ‘Let your gelding be: if you check or chide | |
| He stumbles at once and you’re out of the hunt; | |
| For three hundred gentlemen, able to ride, | |
| On hunters accustom’d to bear the brunt, | 40 |
| Accustom’d to bear the brunt, | |
| Are after the runnable stag, the stag, | |
| The runnable stag with his kingly crop, | |
| Brow, bay and tray and three on top, | |
| The right, the runnable stag.’ | 45 |
| |
| By perilous paths in coomb and dell, | |
| The heather, the rocks, and the river-bed, | |
| The pace grew hot, for the scent lay well, | |
| And a runnable stag goes right ahead, | |
| The quarry went right ahead— | 50 |
| Ahead, ahead, and fast and far; | |
| His antler’d crest, his cloven hoof, | |
| Brow, bay and tray and three aloof, | |
| The stag, the runnable stag. | |
| |
| For a matter of twenty miles and more, | 55 |
| By the densest hedge and the highest wall, | |
| Through herds of bullocks he baffled the lore | |
| Of harbourer, huntsman, hounds and all, | |
| Of harbourer, hounds and all— | |
| The stag of warrant, the wily stag, | 60 |
| For twenty miles, and five and five, | |
| He ran, and he never was caught alive, | |
| This stag, this runnable stag. | |
| |
| When he turn’d at bay in the leafy gloom, | |
| In the emerald gloom where the brook ran deep | 65 |
| He heard in the distance the rollers boom, | |
| And he saw in a vision of peaceful sleep | |
| In a wonderful vision of sleep, | |
| A stag of warrant, a stag, a stag, | |
| A runnable stag in a jewell’d bed, | 70 |
| Under the sheltering ocean dead, | |
| A stag, a runnable stag. | |
| |
| So a fateful hope lit up his eye, | |
| And he open’d his nostrils wide again, | |
| And he toss’d his branching antlers high | 75 |
| As he headed the hunt down the Charlock glen, | |
| As he raced down the echoing glen— | |
| For five miles more, the stag, the stag, | |
| For twenty miles, and five and five, | |
| Not to be caught now, dead or alive, | 80 |
| The stag, the runnable stag. | |
| |
| Three hundred gentlemen, able to ride, | |
| Three hundred horses as gallant and free, | |
| Beheld him escape on the evening tide, | |
| Far out till he sank in the Severn Sea, | 85 |
| Till he sank in the depths of the sea— | |
| The stag, the buoyant stag, the stag | |
| That slept at last in a jewell’d bed | |
| Under the sheltering ocean spread, | |
| The stag, the runnable stag. | 90 |
| |
