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We know where deepest lies the snow,
And where the frost-winds keenest blow, O'er every mountain's brow, We long have known and learnt to bear The wandering outlaw's toil and care, But where we late were hunted, there Our foes are hunted now. We have their princely homes, and they To our wild haunts are chased away, Dark woods, and desert caves. And we can range from hill to hill, And chase our vanquished victors still; Small respite will they find until They slumber in their graves. But I would rather be the hare, That crouching in its sheltered lair Must start at every sound; That forced from cornfields waving wide Is driven to seek the bare hillside, Or in the tangled copse to hide, Than be the hunter's hound. Unsatisfied? Search for more:Other Cool Sites:Hot Arts & Stage NewsLyrics Catalogue Sound Tracks Guide Guide to Serials and Shows English Subtitles For DivX Movies Hundreds of Cooking Recipes Over 5000 Cocktails Recipes Cool Online Encyclopedia Cellulars Descriptions and Reviews Algorithms Dictionary Funny Jokes and Anecdotes. Usenet Newsgroups Reader |