Found this one in a book and rather liked it. If you recognise it do email me.

Day's End

Huntsman wind your horn again and call the pack away;

The night that's drifting down the dales, will soon be here to stay.
A storm cloud rides yon' lonely height, like some spectre grey;
So, huntsman wind your horn again, we'll hunt no more today.

We've ranged the length of these wild hills, we've searched the valleys deep,
And quested long the fields among, where climbs the rocky steep;
For there a fox has gone to earth, that keeps the hounds at bay;
There he shall rest 'til morning time, we'll hunt no more today.

Old Sailor hangs his weary head and Postman's limping too;
They've led the pack with gallant hearts, from quest to 'View Halloo';
By moor and dale they've kept the line and never gone astray
So wind your horn and call them home, they'll hunt no more today.

We'll wend our way to some old inn, our tired limbs to rest,
And there sit down with hunting men, the staunchest and the best;
Where golden hours shall o'er us fly, with songs and ballads bay;
then with the morn we'll wake the hills, but hunt no more today.