I referred to this song above, and here are the words. This is from Gloucestershire.

TALLY HO, MY FINE SPORTSMEN!

The sun was just peepin'
His head o'er the hills,
And the ploughboy came whistlin'
Across the ploughed fields.
And the birds they did sing
How sweetly their lye (lay)
Tally Ho, my fine sportsmen,
Tally Ho, Hark awye! (away)

CHO
Tally Ho, Tally Ho,
Tally Ho, Hark awye (away)
We will sing to the joys
Of our fox-huntin' dye (day)

Come, gentlemen sportsmen,
And make no de-lye (delay)
But saddle your horses
And let's brush awye!
Sir Henry comes up
With his musical horn
Tally Ho, my fine sportsmen,
Come join us along!

CHO
Tally Ho, Tally Ho,
Tally Ho, Hark awye (away)
We will sing to the joys
Of our fox-huntin' dye (day)

We ran him in chase
Over forty long miles
Over hedges, over ditches,
Over gates, over stiles
The fox is in view
And his mettle is gone.
We will soon over take him,
For his brush drags along!

CHO
Tally Ho, Tally Ho,
Tally Ho, Hark awye (away)
We will sing to the joys
Of our fox-huntin' dye (day)

We ran him in chase
Six hours, full cry!
Tally Ho, says the sportsman
For now he shall die!
We will cut off his brush
With an 'arrowing cry!
And we'll drink to the joys
Of our fox-huntin' dye (day)

CHO
Tally Ho, Tally Ho,
Tally Ho, Hark awye (away)
We will sing to the joys
Of our fox-huntin' dye (day)

From singing of Wallace House, on Folkways, 1952.
DRO