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Poem by Arthur Conan Doyle


Songs of Action (1898). 18. The Old Gray Fox


We started from the Valley Pride,
   	And Farnham way we went.
We waited at the cover-side,
   	But never found a scent.
Then we tried the withy beds
   	Which grow by Frensham town,
And there we found the old gray fox,
      		The same old fox,
      		The game old fox;
Yes, there we found the old gray fox,
   	Which lives on Hankley Down.
         		So heres to the master,
         		And heres to the man!
     	 	And heres to twenty couple
      		Of the white and black and tan!
   	Heres a find without a wait!
   	Heres a hedge without a gate!
   	Heres the man who follows straight,
      		Where the old fox ran.

The Member rode his thoroughbred,
  	Doctor had the gray,
The Soldier led on a roan red,
   	The Sailor rode the bay.
Squire was there on his Irish mare,
   	And Parson on the brown;
And so we chased the old gray fox,
      		The same old fox,
      		The game old fox,
And so we chased the old gray fox
   	Across the Hankley Down.
         		So heres to the master,
         		And heres to the man!
            			&c. &c. &c.

The Doctors gray was going strong
   	Until she slipped and fell;
He had to keep his bed so long
   	His patients all got well.
The Member he had lost his seat,
   	Twas carried by his horse;
And so we chased the old gray fox,
      		The same old fox,
      		The game old fox;
And so we chased the old gray fox
   	That earthed in Hankley Gorse.
         		So heres to the master,
         		And heres to the man!
            			&c. &c. &c.

The Parson sadly fell away,
   	And in the furze did lie;
The words we heard that Parson say
   	Made all the horses shy!
The Sailor he was seen no more
   	Upon that stormy bay;
But still we chased the old gray fox,
      		The same old fox,
      		The game old fox;
Still we chased the old gray fox
   	Through all the winter day.
         		So heres to the master,
         		And heres to the man!
            			&c. &c. &c.

And when we found him gone to ground,
   	They sent for spade and man;
But Squire said Shame!  The beast was game!
   	A gamer never ran!
His wind and pace have gained the race,
  	His life is fairly won.
But may we meet the old gray fox,
      		The same old fox,
      		The game old fox;
May we meet the old gray fox
   	Before the year is done.
         		So heres to the master,
         		And heres to the man!
      		And heres to twenty couple
     		Of the white and black and tan!
      	Heres a find without await!
      	Heres a hedge without a gate!
      	Heres the man who follows straight,
         		Where the old fox ran.



Arthur Conan Doyle


Arthur Conan Doyle's other poems:
  1. Songs of the Road (1911). 8. The Outcasts
  2. Songs of the Road (1911). 17. Man's Limitation
  3. Songs of the Road (1911). 4. A Post-Impressionist
  4. Songs of the Road (1911). 27. Sexagenarius Loquitur
  5. The Guards Came Through (1919). 2. Victrix


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