Poacher’s Song

(C) Emily Holbert Kellam

In Harold’s time the hunting was fine
And the birds did sweetly sing
Then the Bastard came and all the game
Became the right of the King
But true English lads saw sport to be had
And swift to poaching turned
And so in that way have we e’en today
Our pleasant supper earned

One for the partridge, two for the hare
And three for the buck and doe
The hunting of the good King’s game
Shall feed us through the snow

Hunting deer or hare in the greenwoods fair
The Kings own men do ride
Btu we Saxons few are a-hunting too
‘Though cleverly we hide
Time and again come the sheriff’s men
Hunting poachers ‘round the shire
But our prey we’ve shot and we’ll not get caught
As we feast around our fire

Many say that Port is the finest sport
That poaching’s far two cold
And so pass the year drinking fine dark Beer
Or else some Whiskey bold
But they’ll find that Wine is the thief of time
And Ale is a bitter foe
So the English man has no better friends
Then his arrows and longbow

Do not reproach the men who poach
Within the High King’s land
To hunt the game is a noble aim
Amid our merry band
For Love rare and true is a hunter too
Catching hearts within her snare
So give me one kiss and I shall not miss
As I hunt the green-woods fair

Waves on the Shore, Emily Holbert Kellam (2009)
The Green Knight, Heather Dale (2009)
The AmphisMusic 2003 Sampler (2003)

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