Catches, canons and drinking songs

to your rude health,



Come follow me with merry glee and hail the blushing morn,
hark, forward, our game’s in view which we pursue with deep toned horn,
o’er hills and o’er rocks we’ll follow the fox for see more slow he moves,
and now he dies.

Songs with this text:

Version 8e32e8d8d4ff87611fd1ef7b6f028a335f89012d (2021-10-22T17:00:34+01:00)