Island Hunting-Song

<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN> <h1 id="id00341" style="margin-top: 5em">THE ISLAND HUNTING-SONG</h1> <p id="id00343">No more the summer floweret charms,<br/> The leaves will soon be sere,<br/> And Autumn folds his jewelled arms<br/> Around the dying year;<br/> So, ere the waning seasons claim<br/> Our leafless groves awhile,<br/> With golden wine and glowing flame<br/> We 'll crown our lonely isle.<br/></p> <p id="id00344">Once more the merry voices sound<br/> Within the antlered hall,<br/> And long and loud the baying hounds<br/> Return the hunter's call;<br/> And through the woods, and o'er the hill,<br/> And far along the bay,<br/> The driver's horn is sounding shrill,—<br/> Up, sportsmen, and away!<br/></p> <p id="id00345">No bars of steel or walls of stone<br/> Our little empire bound,<br/> But, circling with his azure zone,<br/> The sea runs foaming round;<br/> The whitening wave, the purpled skies,<br/> The blue and lifted shore,<br/> Braid with their dim and blending dyes<br/> Our wide horizon o'er.<br/></p> <p id="id00346">And who will leave the grave debate<br/> That shakes the smoky town,<br/> To rule amid our island-state,<br/> And wear our oak-leaf crown?<br/> And who will be awhile content<br/> To hunt our woodland game,<br/> And leave the vulgar pack that scent<br/> The reeking track of fame?<br/></p> <p id="id00347">Ah, who that shares in toils like these<br/> Will sigh not to prolong<br/> Our days beneath the broad-leaved trees,<br/> Our nights of mirth and song?<br/> Then leave the dust of noisy streets,<br/> Ye outlaws of the wood,<br/> And follow through his green retreats<br/> Your noble Robin Hood.<br/></p> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />