Fox Hunt

Lyrics

The first morning of March in the year ’33
There was frolic and fun in our own country
The King’s county hunt over meadows and rocks
Most nobly set out in the search of a fox
Hullahoo, harkaway, hullaloo, harkaway
Hullahoo, harkaway boys, away, harkaway

When they started, bold Reynard, he faced Tullamore
Through Arklow and Wicklow along the sea-shore
There he brisked up his brush with a laugh and says he
’tis mighty refreshing this breeze from the sea’
Hullahoo, harkaway, hullaloo, harkaway
Hullahoo, harkaway boys, away, harkaway

With the hounds at his heels every inch of the way
He led us by sunset right into Roscrea
There he ran up a chimney and out of the top
The rogue he cried out for the hunters to stop
From their loud harkaway
Hullahoo, harkaway, hullaloo, harkaway
Hullahoo, harkaway boys, away, harkaway

’twas a long thirsty stretch since we left the sea-shore
But lads, here you’ve gallons of claret galore
Myself will make free just to slip out of view
And take a small pull at my own mountain dew’
So no more hullabaloo
Hullahoo, harkaway, hullaloo, harkaway
Hullahoo, harkaway boys, away, harkaway

One hundred and twenty sportsmen went down
And sought him from Ballyland through Ballyboyne
We swore that we’d watch him the length of the night
So Reynard, sly Reynard, lay hid till the light
Hullahoo, harkaway, hullaloo, harkaway
Hullahoo, harkaway boys, away, harkaway

But the hills the re-echoed right early next morn
With the cry of the hounds and the call of the horn
And in spite of his action, his craft and his skill
Our fine fox was taken on top of the hill
Hullahoo, harkaway, hullaloo, harkaway
Hullahoo, harkaway boys, away, harkaway

When Reynard, he knew that his death was so nigh
For pen, ink and paper he called with a sigh
And all his dear wishes on earth to fulfil
With these few dying words he declared his last will
While we ceased, Hullahoo, harkaway, hullaloo, harkaway
Hullahoo, harkaway boys, away, harkaway

Here’s to you, Mr. Casey, my Curraghmore estate
And to you, young O’Brien, my money and plate
And to you, Thomas Dennihy, my whip, spurs and cap
And of what he made mention, they found it no blank
For he gave them a check on the National Bank


Notes


Song Clip


County

Offaly

Song Themes

Sporting occasions

Songwriter