MY Lady rides a-hunting Upon a dapple grey: Six trumpeters they ride behind, Six prickers clear the way. And when she climbs the hillsides The Hunt cries: "Ho! la! Lo!" And when she trails along the dales The merry horns do blow. And so in summer weather, Before the heat of day, My darling takes all eyes and breaks My heart and makes away. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RHODORA: ON BEING ASKED, WHENCE IS THE FLOWER? by RALPH WALDO EMERSON SONNET: 22. TO THE SAME [CYRIACK SKINNER] by JOHN MILTON I WOULD NOT LIVE ALWAY by WILLIAM AUGUSTUS MUHLENBERG LITTLE BERNHARD by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS THE ROSE I GREW by JULIA S. ANDERSON MILLCREEK by MATTIE-LOU BLACKWOOD |