Each Risk and Peril the Toil Endears

The Alpine Hunters
by Louisa Anne Meredith  

(Suggested by a picture of the "Hunters of the Tyrol," by J. F. Lewis, Esq.)   

Lightly bounding o'er Alpine snow,
 We merry, merry mountain-hunters go;
 With horn and rifle, at earliest light,
 We follow the chamois' fearless flight:
 O'er crag and gully -- o'er vale and hill,
 We merry, merry hunters are chasing still;

 Rousing the hawk from her lofty nest,
 As we seek our prey on the mountain-crest;
 And the startled eagle ascending flies,
 With her shrill scream rending the deep-blue skies,
 Then pauses -- to hear an answer borne
 From the merry, merry hunters' echoing horn.

When wounded, at length the quarry falls,
 And the note of triumph each bugle calls,
 Who thinks of danger -- dreams of fears?
 Each risk and peril the toil endears;
 Wood -- rock -- and torrent are swiftly past,
 At the merry, merry hunters' bugle-blast.

But list that heavy and fearful crash!
 The rebounding peal -- and lightning-flash!
 'Twas an av'lanche fall -- and the storm is near --
 Night closes and all around is drear: 
 Yet we care not though wind and tempests come,
 For the merry, merry hunters have reached their home!