Black Fox
Words and music by Graham Pratt © 1975


As we were out a hunting one morning in the spring
Both hounds and horses, running well, made the hills and the valleys ring
But to our great misfortune, no fox there could be found
Our huntsmen cursed and swore but still no fox moved over the ground

So up spoke our Master Huntsman, the master of our chase
“If only the Devil himself ran by, we’d run him such a race!”
And up there sprung like lightning, a fox from out of his hole
But his fur was the colour of a starless night and his eyes like burning coal

So they chased him over the valley and they chased him over the field
And they chased him down to the riverbank, but never would he yield
And he’s jumped into the water, and he’s swum to the other side
And he’s laughed so loud that the green woods shook
He’s turned to the huntsmen and he’s cried:

	“Ride on, my gallant Huntsman… when must I come again?
	For you should never want for a fox to chase all over the glen
	When your need is greatest, just call upon my name
	And I will come and you shall have the best of sport and game.”

Well, the men looked up in wonder and the hounds ran back to hide
For the fox it changed to the Devil himself, where he stood on the other side
And the men, the hounds, the horses, they went flying back to town
But hard on their heels went that little black fox, laughing as he ran:

	“Ride on, my gallant Huntsman… when must I come again?
	For you should never want for a fox to chase all over the glen
	When your need is greatest, just call upon my name
	And I will come and you shall have the best of sport and game.”