HUNTING SONG.

Awake—awake! for the day-beams break, And the morning wind blows free; The huntsmen strain over hill and plain, And the horn winds merrily! 'Tis the dawn of day; and the shadows play O'er the paths in the woody glen; And the scent lies still upon field and hill, For the hound to thread again. Away—away! while the morn is gray, And the feathery mist hangs nigh; The hound bays deep from the craggy steep, And the horn winds merrily!

Press on—press on! o'er the dewy lawn, And through the greenwood still; The brook is passed, and the stag breathes fast, As he pants on yonder hill. The sun peeps now from the mountain's brow, And the wild bird carolls free, While the hot steeds drink at the brook's green brink, And the hounds lag heavily. But hark! again through the tangled glen, Over meadow, and wood, and lea, The deep-mouth'd pack resume the track, And the horn winds merrily!