...turret that o'er-hung Her latticed bower, the strain was sung. XXIV. jUp of tJje impusowts ^umgmatu My hawk is tired of perch and hood, My idle grey-hound...in forests green, With bended bow and blood-hound free,For that's the life is meet for me. 10 1 hate to learn the ebb of time, From yon dull steeple's...

...complain, in these beautiful, and appropriate Lines. • ! • • ' My Hawk is tir'd of Perch and Food, My idle Greyhound loathes his Food, My Horse is weary...green, With bended Bow and Blood-hound free, For that's die Life is meet for Me. I hate to learn the Ebb of TIME, From yon dull Steeple's drowsy Chime, Or...

...was snng. XXIV. LAY OF THE IMPRISONED HUNTSMAN. My hawk is tired of perch and hood, My idle grayhonnd loathes his food, My horse is weary of his stall, And I am sick of captive tin-all. I wish I were as I have heen, Hunting the hart in forests green, With hended how and hloodhound...

...that o'erhung Her latticed bower., the strain was sung. XXIV. Hag of tijc imprison eB ftuntaman. " My hawk is tired of perch and hood, My idle grey-hound...I wish I were as I have been, Hunting the hart in forest green, With bended bow and blood-hound free, For that's the life is meet for me. " I hate to...

...sung-. XXIV. LAY OF THE IMPRISONED HUNTSMAN. My hawk is tired of perch and hood, My idle gray-hound loathes his food, My horse is weary of his stall,...sick of captive thrall. I wish I were as I have been, t anting the hart in forests green: ith bended bough and blood-hound free, >r that's the life is meet...

...When he hears the Last Whistle, he'll jump upon deckLAY OF THE IMPRISONED HUNTSMAN. " Sir W. Scott. My horse is weary of his stall, And I am sick of captive...Hunting the hart in forests green, With "bended bow, and blood hound free, For that's the life is meet for me. I hate to learn the ebb of time, From yon dull...

...salmon-river, killing his own game and eating his own yenison, surrounded and beloved by his clansmen — " My hawk is tired of perch and hood, My idle greyhound...loathes his food, My horse is weary of his stall, And T am sick of captive thrall. I wish I were as I have been, Hunting the hart in forest-green, With bended...

...of our plague-prison, did I murmur out my own irritation in the words of the Mighty One of Song: " My hawk is tired of perch and hood. My idle greyhound...weary of his stall, And I am sick of captive thrall." But even had we looked on the peasantry of Hungary at a less joyous moment, we could not have failed...

...of our plague-prison, did I murmur out my own irritation in the words of the Mighty One of Song : " My hawk is tired of perch and hood, My idle greyhound...weary of his stall, And I am sick of captive thrall." But even had we looked on the peasantry of Hungary at a less joyous moment, we could not have failed...

...of our plague-prison, did I murtnur out my own irritation in the words of the Mighty One of Song: " My hawk is tired of perch and hood, My idle greyhound loathes his food, My hone is weary of his stall, And I am sick of captive thrall." But even had we looked on the peasantry...