Here’s a health to the hound,
Here’s a health to the hunting horn’s glorious sound,
And we meet at the squire’s i’ the morning.
Ye skaters away with your skates,
The Ice-King hath ended his fêtes,
Put your skates in your cupboards and fasten the locks,
And bring out your hunters
From stall and from box,
For once more we’ll go hunting the little red fox,
And we meet at the squire’s i’ the morning.