The dew drops on the daisy's brow,
The hare has brush'd with timid feet,
And slyly doubling from her foe
Has softly sought her snug retreat.

The breeze is south—the upland's brow
A misty crown adorning,
And sparkling gems deck blade and bough
The jovial spoitman's warning.
The gentlest zephyrs softly sigh,
Just bend the Hare-bell as they fly :

Caress the rose in -wanton play,
And kissing steal her breath away;
'tis a hunting morning,
A noble hunting morning.

When o'er the hills at break of clay,
The Huntsman takes his careless way i
Whose heart from care is lighter ?

At night to jovial ease restor'd,
Where beauty decks the social board ;
Whose lamp of life burns brighter ?

The breeze is south—the upland's brow,