(A Lay of the Litany Bushes.)
The place – we all know it, the Romans before us did,
Totternhoe’s ramparts above it look down;
Hard by the outskirts of Dunstable town.
Never a gunshot disturbs its tranquillity.
Never a cur-dog its privacy mocks;
This takes us first rank as yet,
Never drawn blank as yet,
Haunt of the rabbit and home of the fox.
To read more, click here to subscribe or if you are already a subscriber, please log in!
The man – we all know him – how cheery his welcome
When meeting at Tilsworth we ride to the fray;
Still more familiar to many among us,
The view of his back when its ‘forrard away!’
Whether the line be for Leighton or Toddington,
Long hunting run or a ten-minute burst,
Timber or ditch it is,
Never mind which it is,
Bet you a fiver the Colonel * goes first!
This is the toast I would ask you to honour then –
You who love fences strong-growing and tall:
‘Dunstable’s vale and the man who has “made” it,
The man who can cross it the best of us all.
Eighteen times running we’ve found at the Litany –
Show me a record beats that if you can;
Covert well tended
And sportsman so splendid,
Then long may they flourish – the Place and the Man!
*Colonel Martyn Fenwick of Tilsworth.
George U, Robins