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The Poacher's Song

The Poacher's Song

Words by Emer nic Aidan

CHORUS
One for the partridge, two for the hare
And three for the buck and doe
The hunting of the good King's game
Shall feed us through the snow

In Harold's time the hunting was fine
And the birds did sweetly sing
Then the Bastard came and all the game
Became the right of the King
But true English lads saw sport to be had
And swift to poaching turned
And so in that way have we e'en today Our
pleasant supper earned
CHORUS

Hunting deer or hare in the greenwoods fair
The Kings own men do ride
But we Saxons few are a-hunting too
`Though cleverly we hide
Time and again come the sheriff's men
Hunting poachers `round the shire
But our prey we've shot and we'll not get caught
As we feast around our fire
CHORUS

Many say that Port is the finest sport
That poaching's far too cold
And so pass the year drinking fine dark Beer
Or else some Whiskey bold
But they'll find that Wine is the thief of time
And Ale a bitter foe
So the English man has no better friends
Than his arrows and longbow
CHORUS

Do not reproach the men who poach
Within the High King’s land
To hunt the game is a noble aim
Amid our merry band
For Love rare and true is a poacher too
Catching hearts within her snare
So give me one kiss and I shall not miss
As I hunt the greenwoods fair


© Emily Holbert

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In Uncle J's Universe the date is: Fri, Jun 23, AS 52 ( CE 2017 )