Old Tim is gone; his whisper's over;
A few gorsoons he'll tell,
And then to close both den and shore
He'll run o'er dale and dell
The summer's morn broke bright and gay
As the beagles forth are led
An hundred horse, at least, are they
And Sir Richard at their head.
"Come on, my horses, step close behind
And now, my ladies fair,
You'll have a pant today, you'll find ,
Or the d---l bleach my hair"(i)
Near Nollie's cabin, low and lean,
We raised our hare - hulloo!
A sturdy steel-grey of stately mien
That 'fore the hounds fair flew
The Slaney twice she swam at Craan;
Through wooded glen and dale
O'er bog and lealand, riasg and baan
And never seemed to quail
(i) Oath authart