Hunting Poetry

My Tribute to the Beagle

Posted on Wednesday, June 3, 2020
Written by: Willet Randall

These lines were penned by Willet Randall the ninetenth century breeder of some exceptional American beagles including Forest Patch When the summer days are over, With the fields no longer green; And the lavish hand of Nature, Daubs her war-paint on the screen; There’s a thrilling recreation, Born of ages long since dead, That revives...

To access this content, you must purchase Annual Subscription to Baily's or Yearly on-going subscription to Baily's, or log in if you are a member.

Foxhound Refugees

Posted on Tuesday, June 2, 2020
Written by: Peter Brook

From our Own Correspondent. New York, Thursday, October 19. 1939 Barking loudly and wagging their tails, thirty-seven refugee foxhounds from England landed here today and were rushed to the country in a fleet of expensive limousines. The foxhounds looked so impressive that New York street hounds growled loudly at them. They belong to the North...

To access this content, you must purchase Annual Subscription to Baily's or Yearly on-going subscription to Baily's, or log in if you are a member.

A Smart Young Fox

Posted on Tuesday, January 7, 2020
Written by: Provided by Sean Turnbull- Author unknown

A smart young fox sat airing his view in Dingly Dell one night, I’m glad to see that human folk at last set things aright,  Abolish all blood sports they say, and down with hunting men!! What rubbish are you quoting? Said an old grey fox just then. Young man, I’m old and grey I...

To access this content, you must purchase Annual Subscription to Baily's or Yearly on-going subscription to Baily's, or log in if you are a member.

The Huntsman’s Horse

Posted on
Written by: Edric Roberts

The huntsman’s horse, whether brown or bay, or brightest chestnut, or sober grey, whate’er his colour, a hunting day is all the same to him, come what may. When other horses, too full of beans, unship their riders by artful means, or kick each other to smithereens, he takes no part in such ugly scenes....

To access this content, you must purchase Annual Subscription to Baily's or Yearly on-going subscription to Baily's, or log in if you are a member.

The Hillmen

Posted on Saturday, May 25, 2019
Written by: Stanislaus Lynch

We don’t turn out in scarlet, We are more at home in tweeds; We have no aristocratic hounds Or blood three figure steeds: Our home is in the up-lands Where the Great Creator spills His richest browns and purples On our everlasting hills   Our pack’s no beauty chorus Bred to win in show-ring class...

To access this content, you must purchase Annual Subscription to Baily's or Yearly on-going subscription to Baily's, or log in if you are a member.

Ode to the First Time Puppy Walker

Posted on Wednesday, April 3, 2019
Written by: Tanya Woodhead MH

The huntsman drove up to our gate.. “I’ve brought you these..” he said, “This one has been rather ill, and messed on that one’s head!” I tried to look delighted, as any new mum should, but the smell of sick, and other things, had somewhat spoiled the mood! A gorgeous pair of tiny dogs had...

To access this content, you must purchase Annual Subscription to Baily's or Yearly on-going subscription to Baily's, or log in if you are a member.

An Interview with an Old Huntsman

Posted on Wednesday, April 25, 2018
Written by: Peter Brook

I went to his cottage and found him reclining, Propped up in chair, he was feeble and grey. The sun had gone down, and the day was declining, The mists from the meadows fell white by the way. He welcomed a sportsman, he told me, and bade me Sit down by his side while he...

To access this content, you must purchase Annual Subscription to Baily's or Yearly on-going subscription to Baily's, or log in if you are a member.

The Lament of an Old Hound.

Posted on
Written by: Peter Brook

These anonymous verses come from Great Days Two our new book published July 2018 They’ve left me in kennel for many a morning, Just lately, when drawing the pack for the day, They surely can’t think that I’m out of the running We meet twice a week from September to May. Why, it seems only...

To access this content, you must purchase Annual Subscription to Baily's or Yearly on-going subscription to Baily's, or log in if you are a member.

The Galloping Squire

Posted on Friday, April 13, 2018
Written by: George Whyte-Melville

Come, I’ll show you a country that none can surpass, For a flyer to cross like a bird on the wing, We have acres of woodland and oceans of grass, We have game in the autumn and cubs in the spring, We have scores of good fellows hang out in the shire But the best...

To access this content, you must purchase Annual Subscription to Baily's or Yearly on-going subscription to Baily's, or log in if you are a member.

The Lord of the Valley

Posted on
Written by: George Whyte-Melville

Hunters are fretting, and hacks in a lather, Sportsmen arriving from left and from right; Bridle-roads bringing them, see how they gather, Dotting the meadows in scarlet and white. Foot-people staring and horsemen preparing, Now there’s a murmur, astir, and a shout, Fresh from his carriage, as bridegroom in marriage, The Lord of the Valley...

To access this content, you must purchase Annual Subscription to Baily's or Yearly on-going subscription to Baily's, or log in if you are a member.