Over The Hills

The old hound wags his shaggy tail, And I know what he would say: It's over the hills we'll bound, old hound, Over the hills, and away. There's nought for us here save to count the clock, And hang the head all day: But over the hills we'll bound, old hound, Over the hills and away. Here among men we're like the deer That yonder is our prey: So, over the hills we'll bound, old hound, Over the hills and away. The hypocrite is master here, But he's the cock of clay: So, over the hills we'll bound, old hound, Over the hills and away. The women, they shall sigh and smile, And madden whom they may: It's over the hills we'll bound, old hound, Over the hills and away. Let silly lads in couples run To pleasure, a wicked fay: 'Tis ours on the heather to bound, old hound, Over the hills and away. The torrent glints under the rowan red, And shakes the bracken spray: What joy on the heather to bound, old hound, Over the hills and away. The sun bursts broad, and the heathery bed Is purple, and orange, and gray: Away, and away, we'll bound, old hound, Over the hills and away.