Explore "The Find" by Charles Kingsley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Yon sound's neither sheep-bell nor bark, / They're running -- they're running, Go hark! / The sport may be lost by a moment's delay; / So whip up the puppies and scurry away.
Dash down through the cover by dingle and dell, / There's a gate at the bottom -- I know it full well; / And they're running -- they're running, / Go hark!
They're running -- they're running, Go hark! / One fence and we're out of the park; / Sit down in your saddles and race at the brook, / Then smash at the bullfinch; no time for a look; / Leave cravens and skirters to dangle behind; / He's away for the moors in the teeth of the wind, / And they're running -- they're running, / Go hark!
They're running -- they're running, Go hark! / Let them run on and run till it's dark! / Well with them we are, and well with them we'll be, / While there's wind in our horses and daylight to see: / Then shog along homeward, chat over the fight, / And hear in our dreams the sweet music all night / Of -- They're running -- they're running, / Go hark!
Eversley, 1856.