Blow thy horn hunter (William Cornysh)
- Editor: James Gibb (submitted 2017-11-26). Score information: A4, 2 pages, 49 kB Copyright: CPDL
- Edition notes: Reformatting of #15080. Underlay rationalised and v. 8 added. Set for ATB.
- Editor: Monique Rio (submitted 2008-07-02). Score information: Letter, 2 pages, 280 kB Copyright: CC BY 4.0
- Edition notes: Formerly Edited by Aaron Elkiss. Updated 2016-08-17
- Editor: Brian Russell (submitted 2007-09-11). Score information: A4, 2 pages, 14 kB Copyright: CPDL
- Edition notes: NoteWorthy Composer file may be viewed and printed with NoteWorthy Composer Viewer.
- Editor: Ted Dean (submitted 2003-12-04). Score information: A4, 2 pages, 62 kB Copyright: Personal
- Edition notes:
Title: Blow thy horn, hunter
Composer: William Cornysh
Original text and translations
1 Blow thy horn, hunter,
And blow thy horn on high!
There is a doe in yonder wood,
In faith she will not die:
Now blow thy horn, hunter,
Now blow thy horn, jolly hunter!
2 Sore this deer stricken is,
And yet she bleeds no whit;
She lay so fair, I could not miss,
Lord, I was glad of it:
3 As I stood under a bank,
The deer shoff on the mead;
I struck her so that down she sank
But yet she was not dead.
4 There she go'th! See ye not,
How she go'th over the plain?
And if ye lust to gave a shot,
I warrant her barrain.
5 He to go and I to go,
But he ran fast afore;
I bade him shoot and strike the doe,
For I might shoot no more.
6 To the covert both they went,
For I found where she lay;
An arrow in her haunch she hent,
For faint she might not bray.
7 I was weary of the game,
I went to tavern to drink;
Now, the construction of the same--
What do you mean or think?
8 Here I leave and make an end
Now of this hunter's lore:
I think his bow is well unbent,
His bolt may flee no more.