AUTUMN’S  CHASE,

Then  Autumn came, My Love,
With Scents and Coloured Burs,
And  t’was then that I went Huntin’
With all manner of Men,
Clutching their Flasks ‘n’ Cigars,
For the Stags had been Rut,
And the Chase was fresh,
When Game was on the Tongue,
Across both Brushford and Winsford.

And yet the Master did smile,
With cheeks of  Scarlet,
Taking both Horses and Hounds
That bit further on, My Love,
For Autumn’s Chase,
Had now begun,
Just when Salmon climbed the Rivers wash,
Below the ancient Bridges,
Life was Ended in a Blooded Moor land Stream,
Where the Clouds did Fall,
And the Mists did rise,
Their Lay the Spirit, with baying Hounds,
                                              Of our Moor.