Master Went A-Hunting, When The Leaves Were Falling; We Saw Him On The Bridle Path, We Heard Him Gaily Calling. 'Oh Master, Master, Come You Back, For I Have Dreamed A Dream So Black!' A Glint Of Steel From Bit And Heel, The Chestnut Cantered Faster; A Red Flash Seen Amid The Green, And So Good-Bye To Master. Master Came From Hunting, Two Silent Comrades Bore Him; His Eyes Were Dim, His Face Was White, The Mare Was Led Before Him. 'Oh, Master, Master, Is It Thus That You Have Come Again To Us?' I Held My Lady'S Ice-Cold Hand, They Bore The Hurdle Past Her; Why Should They Go So Soft And Slow? It Matters Not To Master.