Blow thy Horn, Hunter
William Cornysh
Born: 1465
Died: October 1523
Unknown creation date
Blow thy horn, hunter,
And blow thy horn on high!
There is a doe in yonder wood,
In faith she will not die:
Now blow thy horn, hunter,
Now blow thy horn, jolly hunter!
Sore this deer stricken is,
And yet she bleeds no whit;
She lay so fair, I could not miss,
Lord, I was glad of it:
Now blow thy horn, hunter,
Now blow thy horn, jolly hunter!
As I stood under a band,
The deer shoff on the mead;
I struck her so that down she sank
But yet she was not dead.
Now blow thy horn, hunter,
Now blow thy horn, jolly hunter!
There she go'th! See ye not,
How she go'th over the plain?
And if ye lust to gave a shot,
I warrant her barrain.
Now blow thy horn, hunter,
Now blow thy horn, jolly hunter!
He to go and I to go,
But he ran fast afore;
I bade him shoot and strike the doe,
For I might shoot no more.
Now blow thy horn, hunter,
Now blow thy horn, jolly hunter!
To the covert both they went,
For I found where she lay;
An arrow in her haunch she hent,
For faint she might not bray.
Now blow thy horn, hunter,
Now blow thy horn, jolly hunter!
I was weary of the game,
I went to tavern to drink;
Now, the construction of the same--
What do you mean or think?
Now blow thy horn, hunter,
Now blow thy horn, jolly hunter!
Here I leave and make an end
Now of this hunter's lore:
I think his bow is well unbent,
His bolt may flee no more.
Now blow thy horn, hunter,
Now blow thy horn, jolly hunter!