Hunting Song

Diana, Queen of night and Moonshine
Whose white cheeks like a silver spoon shine
Who chases with her bow and arrow
All game from woodchucks to a sparrow,
And wears the dress of Mrs Bloomer
Because long skirts don’t suit her humor
For trapsing over walls and fences
And brambles, in all moods and tenses—
Diana Queen, the Moon’s own goddess
Goes with her train of “heavenly bodies”—
Her only train you see indeed —
Night-raiding like that earthly breed
Who raise the chickens they don’t feed;
Well, just tonight this Miss Diana
Came to me in her silvery manner
And said, says she, “Ah, really, won’r
You, Miss, join with us for a hunt?
And when we catch a bear – (or bore)
Just softly slipping to a snore
We’ll stop a jiff and serenade him,
And maybe leave some game to aid him,
If his own charms run short, in charmin’’
The firl whose arm he’d hook his arm in.”

“A Hunt? O yes; that would be jolly!
I’ll go, as sure’s my name is  —— golly
That’s telling! Yes I;l go Miss Dian
I’d like a Hunt – a real spry ‘un,
But I can’t sing if I should spy ‘im.”
“We’ll fix that, marm,” says she, I know
Here there’s good music – for a beau!”

And so we went, bob, hook and sinker,
Crab-net and pop-gun bow and piker;
(That bow Diana always carried.
—with two strings for the never married.—)
And here’s the game we caught to bring you
And here’s the serenade they sing you.

          “Cutty hunk! Cutty hunk!
               Ker-chug! Kerchunk!
          Ho d’y do? Ho d’y do?
               “None the better for you?”
     Do you say? But you are 
     For we sing and we dance by the Moon and her star,—
          White you be snug as a bug in a rug,
               Cutty hunk! Kerchunk
                      Kerching!”

Now here’s the moral of the Lay:
As by the looks you cannot say
How far a toad will jump (or frog,
For both are natives of one bog—)
So when a girl a Hunt-ing goes
You can’t tell as she draws her beaus
Whether she’ll bring down game above ye
Or just pull string and make game of you!