  Composed by W. S. Kenrick, and J. Burtell. The Chase run by the Cleveland Fox Hounds, on Saturday the 29th day of January, 1785. Ye hardy sons of chace give ear, All listen to my song; 'Tis of a hunt perform'd this year, That will be talk'd of long, When a hunting we do go, oho, oho, oho, And a hunting we will go, oho, oho, oho, And a hunting we will go, oho, oho, oho, With the huntsman, Tally, oh. On Weary Bank, ye know the same, Unkenell'd was the fox; Who led us, and our hounds of fame, O'er mountains, moors, and rocks, When a hunting we do go, &c. 'Twas Craythorn first swift reynard made, To Limton then did fly; Full speed pursu'd each hearty blade, And join'd in jovial cry, With the huntsman Tally ho, &c. To Worsal next he took his flight, Escape us he would fain; To Picton next with all his might, To Craythorn back again, With the huntsman Tally ho, &c. To Weary Bank then takes his course, Thro' Fanny Bell's gill flies; In Seymour Car strains all his force, His utmost vigour tries, With the huntsman Tally oh, &c. To Tanton, Nunthorp, next he flies, O'er Langbrough Rig goes he; He scours like light'ning o'er the meads, More swift fox could not be, Nor with a huntsman better match'd, &c. To Newton, then to Roseberry, To Hutton Lockerass gill; To Lownsdale, o'er Court Moor go we, From thence to Kildale Mill, With the huntsman Tally ho, &c. By this our zeal was not subdu'd, All crosses were in vain; To Kildale reynard we pursu'd, To Lownsdale back again, With the huntsman Tally ho, &c. By Percy Cross, and Sleddale too, And Pilly Rig full fast, As fox could run to Skylderskew, And Lockwood Beck he past, With the huntsman Tally ho, &c. By Freebrough Hill he takes his way, By Danby Lodge also; With ardour we pursue our prey, As swift as hounds could go, With the huntsman Tally ho, &c. By Coal Pits and o'er Stonegate Moor, To Scayling reynard ran; Was such a fox e'er seen before? His equal show who can! When a hunting we do go, &c. To Barnby now by Ugthorpe Mill, And Mickleby likewise; To Ellerby, to Hinderwell, Still stubborn reynard flies, With the huntsman Tally ho, &c. The huntsman now with other three, And reynard you'll suppose; Ten couple of hounds of high degree, One field now did inclose, With the huntsman Tally ho, &c. But now our chace draws near an end, No longer we'll intrude; For on the cliff, rejoice, my friend, Swift reynard there we view'd, With the huntsman Tally ho, &c. Sure such a chace must wonder raise, And had I time to sing, The huntsman's deeds who merits praise, Would make the vallies ring, When a hunting we do go, &c. Come, sportsmen, all your glasses fill, And let the toast go round; May each foxhunter flourish still In health and strength abound, When a hunting we do go, &c. |
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