Full Lyrics
R:In life there's no enjoyment,
Howe'er it may abound,
Like hunting thro' the woodlands,
With rifle and with hound.
While merry birds are singing,
And cheerly sounds the horn,
Thro' woods and fields we wander
At early break of dawn. R:
With joy we range the woodland,
In quest of lurking deer,
While nature woos our coming
With breezes fresh and clear. R:
I'll live and die a huntsman;
No other joys I crave,
And, when the sport is over,
The wood shall be my grave. R:
