 THE THE HUNTERS HUN i iisslRs $ SONG.
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THE HUN isis $ SONG. Give me the naked heavens above,

 The broad bare heath below, A merry glance from her love,

 My fleet hound and my bow. crave no red gold for my pouch,

 No wine cup mantling high, Nor broidered vest, nor downy couch,

 On which the care worn sigh: With conscience ciear.and steadfast mind, , Ny cares whistle Co the wina. : ! ain hungry I can wing

 The wild bird as he flies; Or thirsty, yonder chrystal spring

 My sparkling draught supplies, The deer must yield his dappled coat My viz 'rous limbs to don; The heron his dark plume to float

 My fearless brows upon. am content-canst thou say more, With pride, and pomp and treasuf'd store?