Davy Daw, Davy Daw, for a morning chase,
With an Irish blood to make the pace:
He’s last to check and first to view,
And hard to the death he leads his queue.
Day in we hunt the spinney fox,
Day out the rapparee;
His cave is in the broken rocks
Above the Correi-buidhe.
A shameful thing, the ladies say,
To hunt your fellow-man;