|
UNDERNEATH the windy mountain walls Forth we rode, an eager band, By the surges and the verges and the gorges, Till the night was on the land— On the hazy, mazy land! Far away the bounding prey Leapt across the ruts and logs, But we galloped, galloped, galloped on, Till we heard the yapping of the dogs— The yapping and the yelping of the dogs.
Oh, it was a madly merry day |