The Devil's Huntsman
He rode home from St Just
In drink taken
Passing the standing stones
Silently past him there flows a pack of hounds
Jet black hounds
Hard on their heels is a dark rider
As black as the pit of hell
He calls "Hold on What sport is this?
Give me some of your game"
"Take that " was the cold reply
Something was tossed to him as the Rider passed by
He caught the bundle
Too dark to see
Rode home to St. Just
Calls for a light
Peers at the bundle
It is a baby
HIS OWN!
DEAD AND COLD
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