Hunting

Baying, leaping, running swiftly,

O’er the fields and pastures gaily,

Through the thicket and the trees,

Tracking quarry far with ease;


Foxhounds swift, pursuing quickly,

As the hunters follow hotly

On their mounts, in scarlet clad,

Such sport this autumn day to have.


Beasts before and beasts pursuing

Race with speed exhilarating 

Through the beauteous fallen leaves,

‘Neath the flaming chestnut trees.

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