The Poacher's Lament

I am a hunter, a hunter with a bow!
Oh, I am a bowman, a hunter with no plough!

The lord does own the deer,
Every one which does appear.
My arrow does pierce a hide,
That deer it pierced did die!

I am a hunter, a hunter with a bow!
Oh, I am a bowman, a hunter with no plough!

But the lord does own the deer.
Even the one I did spear!
And now I stand upon the stool,
The noose around my neck is cruel.

I am a hunter, a hunter with a bow!
Oh, I am a bowman, a hunter with no plough!

Now I am no more the hunter's boast,
Instead, I am but the merest ghost!
And so it is for every poacher,
The hangman's noose to die slower

I am a hunter, a hunter with a bow!
Oh, I am a bowman, a hunter with no plough!