William Henry Ogilvie

Here you will find the Poem Hounds going home in the Dark of poet William Henry Ogilvie

Hounds going home in the Dark

Rustle of feet in the roadside grass, 
Trample of horses' hoofs, and - Hark! 
Blast of an anxious horn! Hounds pass; 
Hounds going home in the dark. 
Bold was our huntsman galloping free 
On a difficult line to the hills to-day, 
But his hand is trembling against his knee 
At the hint of a light on the King's Highway. 

`Car!' And the gold spreads over the sky ; 
`Keep to the front there! Stop them, Mark! 
' Toot-toot-too-oot ! - ' Halloo, there !-Hi ! `- 
Hounds going home in the dark.
Crack of a whip as the headlights near- 
Blind in the blaze they group and grope. 
`Curse the feller, and can't he hear? 
Put 'em across, there I-Cope, boys, cope! ' 

When never a star is hung in the sky, 
With never a lamp or a lantern spark, 
Huntsman and Whips go groping by, 
Blowing them home in the dark.