Holla, Holla!

Art thou gone in haste?
I'll not forsake thee;
Runn'st thou ne'er so fast,
I'll o'ertake thee:
O'er the dales, o'er the downs,
Through the green meadows,
From the fields through the towns,
To the dim shadows.

All along the plain,
To the low fountains,
Up and down again
From the high mountains;
Echo then shall again
Tell her I follow,
And the floods to the woods,
Carry my holla, holla!

Ce! la! ho! ho! hu!