The FOX-CHACE. A Favourite Hunting Song, Sung at the grand Hunts of England. John O'Keeffe Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T224688 K131881.000 O'Keeffe, John, 1747-1833. The fox-chace: A favourite hunting song, sung at the grand hunts of England (Czar Peter). [London? 1790?] pp. []-[]. 1 sheet; 1/4⁰.

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The FOX-CHACE . A Favourite Hunting Song , Sung at the grand Hunts of England . A SOUTHERLY wind and a cloudy sky , Proclaims a Hunting Morning , Before the sun rises , we nimbly fly , Dull sleep , and a downy-bed scorning , To Horse my Boys , to Horse away ; The Chace admits of no delay , On Horseback we're got , together we'll trot , On Horseback we're got , together we trot , Leave of your chat see the cover appear ; The Hound that strikes first cheer him without fear , Drag on him ! Ah wind him my steady good hounds Drag on him ! Ah wind him , the cover resounds . How compleatly the Cover and Furz they draw , Who talks of Barry or Meynell , Young Lasher he flourishes now thro' the shaw ; And Saucebox roars out in his kennel , Away we fly as quick as thought , The new sown ground , soon makes them fault , Cast round the sheeps train , cast round cast round , Try back the deep lane , try back try back , Hark I hear some hounds challenge in yonder spring sedge , Comfort Bitch hits it off in that old thick hedge , Hark forward hark forward have at him my Boys , Hark forward , hark forward , zounds , don't make a noise . A stormy sky overcharged with rain , Both Hounds and Hunstman opposes , In vain on your mettle you try boys in vain , But down ye must to your noses , Each moment now the sky grows worse , Enough to make a Parson curse , Pick through the plow'd grounds , pick through , pick through , Well hunted good Hounds well hunted , well hunted , If we can but get on , we shall soon make him quake Hark I hear some hounds challenge in the midst of the brake , Talio , Talio there across the green plain , Talio , Talio , Boys have at him again . Thus we ride whip and spur for a two hours Chace , Our Horses go panting and sobbbing , Young Madcap and Riot begin now race , Ride on Sir and give him some mobbing , But hold alass you'll spoil our sport , For thro' the Hounds you'll head him short , Clap round him dear Jack , clap round , clap round , Hark Drummer hark back , hark back , hark back , He's Jumping and dodging in every bush , Little Riot has fastened her Teeth in his brush , Whoo ' hoop , whoo ' hoop he's fairly run down , Whoo ' hoop , whoo ' hoop he's fairly run down .