The Hillmen

Posted on Saturday, May 25, 2019
In: Hunting Poetry
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...
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