Boot, saddle, to horse, and away! Rescue my Castle, before the hot day Brightens the blue from its silvery grey, "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!" Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you'd say; Many's the friend there, will listen and pray "God's luck to gallants that strike up the lay, "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!" Forty miles off, like a roebuck at bay, Flouts Castle Brancepeth the Roundheads array: Who laughs, Good fellows ere this, by my fay, "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!" Who? My wife Gertrude; that, honest and gay, Laughs when you talk of surrendering, "Nay! I've better counsellors; what counsel they?" "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"