Song VI [O’er the hills far away, at the birth of the morn]
by
O’er the hills far away, at the birth of the morn.
I hear the full tone of the sweet sounding horn;
The sportsmen with shottings all hail the new day
And swift run the hounds o’er the hills far away.
Across the deep valley their course they pursue
And rush thro’ the thicket yet silver’d with dew;
Nor hedges nor ditches their speed can delay–
Still sounds the sweet horn o’er hills far away.