The solitary huntsman br No coat of pink doth wear, br But midnight black from cap to spur br Upon his midnight mare. br He drones a tuneless jingle br In lieu of tally-ho: br “I’ll catch a fox br And put him in a box br And never let him go.” br br The solitary huntsman, br He follows silent hounds. br No horn proclaims his joyless sport, br And never a hoofbeat sounds. br His hundred hounds, his thousands, br Their master’s will they know: br To catch a fox br And put him in a box br And never let him go. br br For all the fox’s doubling br They track him to his den. br The chase may fill a morning, br Or threescore years and ten. br The huntsman never sated br Screaks to his saddlebow, br “I’ll catch another fox br And put him in a box br And never let him go.