Adam Lindsay Gordon
A Hunting Song
Here's a health to every sportsman, be he stableman or lord,
If his heart be true, I care not what his pocket may afford;
And may he ever pleasantly each gallant sport pursue,
If he takes his liquor fairly, and his fences fairly, too.
He cares not for the bubbles of Fortune's fickle tide,
Who like Bendigo can battle, and like Olliver can ride.
He laughs at those who caution, at those who chide he'll frown,
As he clears a five-foot paling, or he knocks a peeler down.
The dull, cold world may blame us, boys! but what care we the while,
If coral lips will cheer us, and bright eyes on us smile?
For beauty's fond caresses can most tenderly repay
The weariness and trouble of many an anxious day.
Then fill your glass, and drain it, too, with all your heart and soul,
To the best of sports — The Fox-hunt, The Fair Ones, and The Bowl,
To a stout heart in adversity through every ill to steer,
And when Fortune smiles a score of friends like those around us here
Adam Lindsay Gordon's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (A Hunting Song by Adam Lindsay Gordon )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- The Miracle in a Poem, Sandra Feldman
- Angels Come (Haiku), Sambanath Denis
- love for jezebel, ademola oluwabusayo
- Process Of Imagination, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Growing Older, Kyle Schlicher
- Smoking Euthanasia, Dexsta Ray
- pitter patter pong, lee fones
- Slice Of Heaven, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Keep Your Brain Sharp, Ronell Warren Alman
- Nature's Pockets, RoseAnn V. Shawiak