Verse > Anthologies > The World’s Best Poetry > Vol. V. Nature
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Bliss Carman, et al., eds.  The World’s Best Poetry.
Volume V. Nature.  1904.
 
III. The Seasons
“A hunting we will go”
Henry Fielding (1707–1754)
 
THE DUSKY night rides down the sky,
  And ushers in the morn:
The hounds all join in glorious cry,
  The huntsman winds his horn,
            And a hunting we will go.        5
 
The wife around her husband throws
  Her arms to make him stay;
“My dear, it rains, it hails, it blows;
  You cannot hunt to-day.”
            Yet a hunting we will go.        10
 
Away they fly to ’scape the rout,
  Their steeds they soundly switch;
Some are thrown in, and some thrown out,
  And some thrown in the ditch.
            Yet a hunting we will go.        15
 
Sly Reynard now like lightning flies,
  And sweeps across the vale;
And when the hounds too near he spies,
  He drops his bushy tail.
            Then a hunting we will go.        20
 
Fond Echo seems to like the sport,
  And join the jovial cry;
The woods, the hills, the sound retort,
  And music fills the sky,
            When a hunting we do go.        25
 
At last his strength to faintness worn,
  Poor Reynard ceases flight;
Then hungry, homeward we return,
  To feast away the night,
            And a drinking we do go.        30
 
Ye jovial hunters, in the morn
  Prepare then for the chase;
Rise at the sounding of the horn
  And health with sport embrace,
            When a hunting we do go.        35
 
 
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