‘To the hunting, ho!’ cried Parcy Reed,
And to the hunting he has gane;
And the three fause Ha’s o’ Girsonsfield
Alang wi’ him he has them taen.
VIII
They hunted high, they hunted low,
By heathery hill and birken shaw;
They raised a buck on Rooken Edge,
And blew the mort[1269] at fair Ealylawe
IX
They hunted high, they hunted low,
They made the echoes ring amain;
With music sweet o’ horn and hound,
They merry made fair Redesdale glen.
X
They hunted high, they hunted low,
They hunted up, they hunted down,
Until the day was past the prime,
And it grew late in the afternoon.
XI
They hunted high in Batinghope,
When as the sun was sinking low;
Says Parcy then, ‘Ca’ off the dogs,
We’ll bait our steeds and homeward go.’