My dashing little hunter


Verse 1

I have as good a hunter as ever man did see,
So neat he picks his foot up, so well he bends his knee;
His shoulders good, his legs are strong, with such a depth of girth,
And what a pair of hocks he's got to help him through the dirt,
Has my dashing, little hunter, has my gallant, little grey.

Verse 2

His head's as fine as any fawn's, his neck is like a swan,
His haunches they are long and deep, his back is but a span;
His ribs are fine, his pluck is good, I never knew him flinch,
He's up exactly to my weight - that's fifteen hands, one inch,
Is my dashing, little hunter, my gallant, little grey.

Verse 3

When you see him by the cover side, with his swaffle bridle on,
While other horses prance and fret how quietly he'll stand;
When off the hounds, the fox is found, and settled on him steady,
He'll champ his bit, and toss his head, to let you know he's ready,
Does my dashing, little hunter, does my gallant, little grey

Verse 4

Now sly Reynard's broke and there's a Hallo! Gone away!
The scent is good, the country stiff, and there is no time to stay;
He's gone right up, upon a hill, and I'll venture any bet,
The long tail will be panting, and the knots all in a a-fret -
Is my gallant, little hunter, is my gallant, little grey.

Verse 5

Now along the Vale we fly, while some begin to wane,
There's an awkward stiff stile in a bank, and a deep drop in a lane;
But my horse can stand and jump, that's often such a burst,
He's cleared it well, and landed safe, and now, my boys, who's first?
Why, my gallant, little hunter, why, my gallant, little grey.

Verse 6

Full fifty minutes then we ran, and only three the chase could stand,
And two of them were getting tired, but I was hand in hand;
Now they are gone and I'm alone, with rapture I am filled,
To think there were no other in with the hounds, boys, when they killed,
But my gallant, little hunter, but my gallant, little grey.