Hunting Poetry

Foxhound Puppies

Posted on Thursday, November 26, 2020
Written by: William Henry Ogilivie

Great big lolloping lovable things! Rolling and tumbling on every lawn, Tearing at slippers and bones and wings- Wonderful loot from the ash-heap drawn: Foxhound puppies Contented puppies Dipping your ears in the dews of dawn! Lapping your porridge at farm-house doors, Cracking a biscuit, robbing a nest Printing your tracks upon kitchen floors, Dodging...

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Tom Moody

Posted on
Written by: William Henry Ogilvie

Death had beckoned with grisly hand To the finest Whip in hunting-land. ‘ My time is short,’ Tom Moody said, ‘ Master, when I am done and dead, Lay me at Barrow beneath the yew In the dear old shire we have hunted through. Let six earth-stoppers carry me there With slow step and heads...

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The Remount Train (Will Ogilvie)

Posted on Wednesday, November 11, 2020
Written by: Will Ogilvie (1869-1963)

A tribute to those hunting horses and men lost in war. Every head across the bar, Every blaze and snip and star, Every nervous twitching ear, Every soft eye filled with fear, Seeks a friend and seems to say : Whither now, and where away?’ Seeks a friend and seems to ask : ‘Where the...

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The Young Huntsman

Posted on Monday, October 5, 2020
Written by: Thelma J Lougher

This cubbing morn, an August number, Many folk still steeped in slumber. The air was fresh the day was young, A swiftly rising autumn sun. The time of year when hunting men, Slip nocturnal from their den. Enthusiasm crystal clear, What a magic time of year! The morning sunlight rose and made, A golden grotto...

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Foxhound Puppies

Posted on Tuesday, August 18, 2020
Written by: William Henry Ogilvie

Great big lolloping lovable things! Rolling and tumbling on every lawn, Tearing at slippers and bones and wings- Wonderful loot from the ash-heap drawn: Foxhound puppies Contented puppies Dipping your ears in the dews of dawn! Lapping your porridge at farm-house doors, Cracking a biscuit, robbing a nest Printing your tracks upon kitchen floors, Dodging...

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Will You Walk a Puppy?

Posted on
Written by: Will H Ogilvie 1869-1963

‘Will you walk a puppy?’ the Hunt enquired Being sportsmen, we did as the Hunt desired And in early June there arrived a man With an innocent bundle of black and tan A fat little foxhound, bred to the game With a rollicking eye and a league-long name, And he played with a cork on...

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The Fox’s Prophecy

Posted on Friday, July 24, 2020
Written by: DW Nash 1871

NB The “Fox’s Prophecy” poem is a truly remarkable piece of work. Written, about 150 years ago, it repeatedly “predicts” occurrences that have subsequently transpired, even down to the modern farming practices of removing hedgerows, and the current crisis in foxhunting in England.  The following verses, to which, the very apposite title of “The Fox’s...

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The Puppy Show

Posted on Tuesday, June 16, 2020
Written by: Thelma Lougher

Woodwork freshly painted, flower beds all in bloom. The gravel raked and dampened down, hounds all well in tune White coats neatly laundered, bowlers blacked and buffed. Kennels looking spick and span, yards all neatly brushed. Arriving at the puppy show, the walkers and the guests. Everyone discreetly prays, their puppies judged the best. The...

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The Right to Hunt

Posted on
Written by: Thelma J Lougher

It is with sheer excitement, That we rise with the early dawn, Anticipating horse and hounds And the shrill of the hunting horn. Little do the town-folk know, Will they ever understand? What joy, a cold damp morn can bring, To the keepers of the land . We plough, we till, we thresh, we mill,...

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Farewell to a Hunter

Posted on Friday, June 12, 2020
Written by: Author unknown

A sad but poignant verse to a favourite hunter at that difficult time. To no misfortune in the field He bows, fit ending of the game; No weight of years bids him to yield, But swift disease that warps his frame. So Mercy stepping in must break The bonds that Love would fain hold fast,...

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