OVER THE HILLS

The old hound wags his shaggy tail,

And I know what he would say:

It's over the hills we'll bound, old hound,

Over the hills, and away.

There's nought for us here save to count the clock,

And hang the head all day:

But over the hills we'll bound, old hound,

Over the hills and away.

Here among men we're like the deer

That yonder is our prey:

So, over the hills we'll bound, old hound,

Over the hills and away.

The hypocrite is master here,

But he's the cock of clay:

So, over the hills we'll bound, old hound,

Over the hills and away.

The women, they shall sigh and smile,

And madden whom they may:

It's over the hills we'll bound, old hound,

Over the hills and away.

Let silly lads in couples run

To pleasure, a wicked fay:

‘ Tis ours on the heather to bound, old hound,

Over the hills and away.

The torrent glints under the rowan red,

And shakes the bracken spray:

What joy on the heather to bound, old hound,

Over the hills and away.

The sun bursts broad, and the heathery bed

Is purple, and orange, and gray:

Away, and away, we'll bound, old hound,

Over the hills and away.