There’s a melody, too, in the whispering trees, when day has gone down in the West, And a lullaby soft in the sigh of the breeze that hushes the woods to their rest.  There are madrigals fair in the voices of air, in the stream with its ripple and flow, but a merrier tune shall delight us at noon, in the music of sweet Tally-ho. 

When autumn is flaunting his banner of pride for glory that summer has fled, arrayed in the robes of his royalty, dyed in tawny and orange and red.  When the oak is yet rife with the vigour of life, through his acorns are dropping below, through bramble and brake shall the echoes awake, to the ring of a clear Tally-ho …………………………………..Verse from G.J. Whyte-Melville

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