-
Title
-
Chivvy, chivvy o
-
Singer
-
Unknown
-
Song Lyrics
-
Verse 1
When I lived up in Buckinghamshire,
A pack of foxhounds I chanced for to hear,
By hunting an old bitch fox made the groves for to ring,
She was fitting to run before lord, duke or kind.
Chorus
To my chivvy, chivvy o!
Here is ran and tan taro, boys;
Fol the riddle aro,
Right fol the ri day.
Verse 2
Now we had not been running past six miles or more,
Before this old bitch she began to grow sore;
This old bitch fox being crafty and sly,
She mounted a house that was three storeys high.
Chorus
Verse 3
Then up rides Squire Atkins, with his nimble eye -
'Ay! Ay!' says the fox, 'I am mounted so high,
Ay! Ay!' says the fox, 'I am out of thy reach.'
'Ah!' then says proud Atkins, 'I'll soon down thee fetch.'
Chorus
Verse 4
Then up rides Squire Calley on his iron grey,
He swears that bold Reynolds shall have fair play,
'We'll whip the hounds off, and set her at large,
And if we can't catch her she shall have her discharge.'
Chorus
Verse 5
I wish in my heart I was under the ground,
Where lords, dukes and gallants they never could be found -
Now I'll drink thy good health, with all my old heart,
In a bumper of wine, my boys, a gallon or quart.
Chorus
