A jolly wight comes by upon

A sorry mare, that surely came
Of pagan blood and bone;
For down upon her knees she went,
To many a stock and stone!

Now seeing Huggins' nag adrift,
This farmer, shrewd and sage,
Resolv'd by changing horses here,
To hunt another stage!

So up on Huggins' horse he got,
And swiftly rode away,
While Huggins mounted on the mare
Done brown upon a bay!

And off they set, in double chase,
For such was fortune's whim,
The Farmer rode to hunt the stag,
And Huggins hunted him.

* * * * *

And, far remote, each scarlet coat
Soon flitted like a spark,--
Tho' still the forest murmur'd back
An echo of the bark.

But sad at soul John Huggins turn'd: