Princely Diversion, or the Jovial Hunting Match,
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ONE Valentines Day in the Morning,
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bright Phoebus began to appear,
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Sir William Cook winding his Horn
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And was going a hunting the hare,
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Says Handford uncouple our Beagles,
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And let them go questing along
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For loose her or win her, we must go to dinner
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Or else they will think me long,
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Says Handford i pray now forbare si[r]
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And talk not of Dinner so soon
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For ive not been a hunting this Year
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And how can you give over by Noon
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Black Sloven shall warm your bay Robin
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And make him go Smoacking along,
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Bonny Dick shall nor Gallop so quick
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If we light of a Hare that is strong,
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Well Handford said the good Esquire,
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I mean to show you a trick
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I value not hedges nor Ditches
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But Ill let you know bonny Dick
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Then hie for the Closom-Bow-Field,
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We shall get her Ten thousand to one,
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Theres Wonder, lays hard upon Thunder
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Away, oer away she is gone.
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The Morning was pleasant all over
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So bright and so clear was the Sky,
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We made all the Woods for to roar,
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With the Noise of our sweet harmony,
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It was for the space of three Hours
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We held all our Horses to speed
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Black sloven held hard to bay Robin
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But Yet could not do the deed,
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It was about Nine in the morning
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We sounded our first passing Bell
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sir William pray put up your horn
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For another Fresh Hare will do wel
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Well Handford said the good Esquire
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What think you of my bonny Dick
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does think thou can make him to tire
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or not for to Gallop so quick,
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Faith Master I needs must Confess,
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That i fear i was boasting to soon
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But hie for another fresh Hare
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And your Dick should have dinnd by noon
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Well Handford have at your black sloven
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Ill make him in Purple to Ride
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And if he does offer to tire
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Ill certainly Liquor your hide
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You serve him right well says Jack Wilson
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for he has taunting at me
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I never was beat in the field
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so for a fresh a Hare let us see
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for here is some Closes of Corn
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see wel[l] at your place eery one
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Then Master pray pull out your horn,
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for away, oer away, she is gone
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Young Blue b[e]ll he cryd is before
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And she cryd it all over the Lane
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And after her 12 Couple more
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thus they rattld it over the Plain
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Bonny Dick playd with his Bridle,
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And went at a desperate rate
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Come Handford Pox take you youre idle
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Must i open you the Gate
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O, your humble Servant good Master,
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But I will not die in your debt
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You shall find black sloven go faster
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for now he begins for to sweet
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Thrers Wonder and thunder and dido.
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And merry-lass sweetly runs on,
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Theres Younger old Ranter Trantaive
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But Beauty she leads the vain:
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She headed them stoutly and bravely.
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Just up into Suttons-close field,
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Black sloven began to grow heavy
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And made a fair offer to yield
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Jack Wilson came swinging before
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so well did bay Robin maintain,
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And after him bonny Dick scourd
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black sloven was spurd in vain
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but had the Luck and good chance.
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for to go now and then by the string
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she led us a delicate dance.
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but as we came by the Last ring.
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A fresh Hare duce take her was started
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We neer was so vexed before
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And eey we could make Em forsake her
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We run her two Miles or more
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And then we left Sir William Cooke
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for to Ponder upon the old hare
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Who presently lept oer a brook,
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And a desperate leap I declare
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he had not got past a mile
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the Gunning old Gipsy he spyd
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Was making back to her old file,
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then away, oer away he cryd.
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Away oer away my brave boys
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and merrily winded his horn
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o[u]r beadles all tosd up their heads
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and they soon made a speedy return
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and drawing just up to the point.
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Where this Cunning young Gipsy had ru[n]
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You never saw better Dogs hunt
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For life underneath the Sun!
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Now there was Tantive and Ranter
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They sounded their last passing bell
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And Wilson made moan unto Handford
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A Cup of Old-Hock will do well
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And Handford cryd Master ride faster
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For now i begin to grow cool
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With Swet all my cloaths are as wet
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As if i had been in some Pool
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Were not those 2 dainty fine Pusses
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They held us from 7 to one
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We scourd thro Hedges and Bushes
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So merrily we run on
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And as for the praise of these Hounds
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And horses too that Gallop so free
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My Pen would not bring it to sound,
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If time would allow it to be
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Now Gallants i bid you farewell
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For i fear your Patience ive tryd
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And hie for a Glass of good Ale,
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That Peotry may be admird
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And heres a good health to the Sportman
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That hunts with the horn and the hound
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I hope youl all pledge for the future,
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And so let this health go round
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