Glen Collection of printed music > Printed text > National melodist

68 POPUi.AR SONGS.
No hill, no dale, no glen, no mire,
No dell, no night, no storm,
No earth, no water, air, nor fire,
Can do wild Huntsmen harm.
We laugh at what the living dread.
And throw aside our shrouds,
And off we go, &c.
Oft, when by body-snatchers stol'n,
And surgeons for us wait.
Some honest watchmen take the rogues,
To be examined straight ;
We slip away from surgeons, and
From Police-office crowds.
And off we go, with a ho ! so— ho !
A— hunting in the clouds.
With a hey, ho, chivey !
Hark forward ! hark forward, tantivy ! &c.
THE GALLANT TROUBADOUR.
Written by Sir TFalter Scott, Arranged to a Freneh
Air.
Glowing with love on fire for fame,
A Troubadour, that hated sorrow,
Beneath his lady's window came.
And thus he sung his last good morrow :
*' My arm it is my country's right.
My heart is in my true love's bower ;
Gaily for love and fame to fight,
Befits the gallant Troubadour !"
*The revival of Der Freischutz at the Theatre-Royal
during the past week, must be deemed a suflicient excuse
— should any be required — ior the many lyrics dependent
on that Opera, which occur throughout our present num-
bw.