The White Hart's Prey Songtext

von Samantha Moore

My hunting hound runs quickly through the mountain's forest side
And so my steed runs swiftly in pursuit as on we ride
My gray hawk flies above, with wings spanned wide and strong
The prey we spy will come to die, before the day grows long
For the white hart fast and fleet doth flee
And I give chase with glee
And ever on I'll ride upon
The scent of my quarry
For my hunting hound runs swiftly!
The flash of white within the thickened wood catches my eye
Upon the wind I sound my horn as through the woods we fly
The trees seem near alive as if they'd bar my way
No branch nor weed would I pay heed, but followed fast my prey.
For the white hart fast and fleet doth flee
And I give chase with glee
And ever on I'll ride upon
The scent of my quarry
For my hunting hound runs swiftly!
The chase has led me and my prey unto the mountain's side
The hart is trapped, he stands at bay with nowhere left to hide
His coat is flecked with foam, his eyes are filled with fear
With bow arm strong, my arrow's song rings jubilant and clear!
For the white hart fast and fleet doth flee
And I give chase with glee
And ever on I'll ride upon
The scent of my quarry
For my hunting hound runs swiftly!
But lo! When I set down my bow my heart within me sank
Though true my aim, no wound I saw on neither neck nor flank
I bent my bow again, but as I loosed my dart
Before my eyes, the promised prize was nevermore a hart!
For the white hart fast and fleet doth flee
And I give chase with glee
And ever on I'll ride upon
The scent of my quarry
For my hunting hound runs swiftly!
A beast no longer, now a man with beard full to the ground
In robes of ivory white he stands stock still, without a sound
A staff coal black and branched, like the antlers of a deer
Rises from the sage's hand and spellbound, I draw near.
For the white hart fast and fleet doth flee
And I give chase with glee
And ever on I'll ride upon
The scent of my quarry
For my hunting hound runs swiftly!
"Oh you who seek to earn a name by stealing from the wood
A harmless beast of beauty that you'd slay if e'er you could!
No mercy do you bear, and kindness have you not
So you shall flee the bloodthirsty and share your victim's lot!
For the white hart fast and fleet did flee
And you gave chase with glee
Now evermore you'll fly before
The bows of men like thee
For their hunting hounds run swiftly!
Now, I, the white hart, fast I flee
And you give chase with glee
But ‘ware you all of my downfall
Lest you become like me
For your hunting hounds run swiftly!