Tally Ho! A Fox Hunt…

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.
The wife around her husband throws
   Her arms, and begs his stay;
My dear, it rains, and hails, and snows,
   You will not hunt to-day.
     But a hunting we will go.
 A brushing fox in yonder wood,
   Secure to find we seek; For why, I carry'd sound and good
   A cartload there last week.

 And a hunting we will go.

Away he goes, he flies the rout,
    Their steeds all spur and switch;

Some are thrown in, and some thrown out,
   And some thrown in the ditch:

    But a hunting we will go.

At length is strength to faintness worn,

   Poor Reynard ceases flight;
Then hungry, homeward we return,

   To feast away the night:

    Then a drinking we will go.

Henry Fielding’s 18th century "Hunting Song" (c.1745)