“Come, all you jolly hunters bold, I’ll sing you something new, ‘Twas in the springing of the year in eighteen hundred two. A pack of hounds from Kelly came, And cobs from far and nigh. The Squire was on his sliver tail, The parson on his bay, And Surgeon Stone bestrode a roan, The Huntsman rode a grey……………..” Thought you might like a little Ballad, before 1811.
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