LOVE IS A HUNTER BOY Love is a hunter boy, Who makes young hearts his prey And, in his nets of joy, Ensnares them night and day. In vain concealed they lie -- Love tracks them everywhere; In vain aloft they fly -- Love shoots them flying there. But 'tis his joy most sweet, At early dawn to trace The print of Beauty's feet, And give the trembler chase. And if, through virgin snow, He tracks her footsteps fair, How sweet for Love to know None went before him there. -- Thomas Moore