The thrill of the chase

A pair of bright eyes

Flashed in a fox face

And a man was consumed

By the thrill of the chase

He donned a red blazer

And wound up his horn

And mounted his horse

In the chill winter dawn

There were trumpets, halloos

The grass crackled with frost

She dashed under a brake

And he feared she was lost

The hounds sniffed and slobbered

He quickened the pace

Pursuing her scent for

The thrill of the chase


Here she lies in the ditch

And her guts are all spilled

But now he is flinching

From what he has killed

No tenderness now

No hand stroking her face

The mystique all lost

With the thrill of the chase.


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