Kipling’s Fox Hunting

When Samson set my brush afire To spoil the Timnite's barley, I made my point for Leicestershire And left Philistia early. Through Gath and Rankesborough Gorse I fled, And took the Coplow Road, sir ! And was a gentleman in Red When all the Quorn wore woad, sir ! When Rome lay massed on Hadrian's...

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