HUNTING SONG
(To be sung when the Hounds meet at Colney Hatch or Hanwell)
Tantivy! Anchovy! Tantara!
The moon is up, the moon is up,
The larks begin to fly,
And like a scarlet buttercup
Aurora gilds the sky.
Then let us all a-hunting go,
Come, sound the gay French horn,
And chase the spiders to and fro,