The hunt is up! and hound and pup Are tuning round Killarney; The hunt is out! O there's a shout! You'd hear it down to Blarney. There goes the stag along the crag, A Royal now I warrant, See how he sails across the rails And flies the foaming torrent. Away in Tork they wind and work, Among the whorts and heather. The scent's in doubt, now all are out, Now hark! They're all together. For old Jack Keogh he marked him go And waved 'em with his wattle. A full George crown they've thrown him down, With that he'll moist his throttle. Yoicks! Tally ho! Away they go! See how the turf he's skimming. He's through the brake, he's took the lake, And after him they're swimming. Their floating ranks are on his flanks, They're closing now behind him; He feels the land, he's up the strand! Now, mind him, oh now mind him! Hull-hullahoo! they flash in view Along the shining shingle; In length'ning row they streaming go, Now with the shades they mingle; While, underneath the evening star, A phantom hunt seems flying, Now swelling near, now echoing far, Now down the breezes dying.
- by Alfred Perceval Graves (1846 - 1931) [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
- by Charles Villiers Stanford, Sir (1852 - 1924), "The Killarney hunt", op. 76 no. 41, published 1901 [voice and piano], from Songs of Erin, no. 41, London, Boosey [text verified 1 time]
Researcher for this text: Mike Pearson
This text was added to the website: 2016-09-13
Line count: 32
Word count: 197