If roaming lost, in thickest fog
Or traipsing through the gloom,
You sense a dark and spectral dog
Tis a portent of your doom!
Do not venture from the path
For hunting on the moors
Is a hound that’s bigger than a calf
With snapping, slavering jaws!
To see it once is sore bad luck
But again you’ll likely spy
And when if thrice you spot Old Shuck
You’ll soon most surely die!
Diabolic Grim, unleashed from Hell
To round up the condemned
And drag them back to where he dwell
To face their grisly end!
A prowling beast who owns the night
Haunting forest, field and lane
Delivering terror, installing fright
Within evil eyes aflame!
Repent my friend, and do it soon!
Please don’t tell me no
Or Barghest you’ll meet by light of moon
And he’ll take you down below
For me this warning came too late…
I saw him yester morn’
He stalked me by the church yard gate
Before the break of dawn!