Yellow Fang
Legendary Member
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It seems to be the thing these days, especially with so many deceased not having been very religious. I bagsy
The Rolling English Road by G.K. Chesterton, so you can't use it. It combines my love of country with my love of beer.
Before the Roman came to Rye or out to Severn strode,
A rolling English drunkard made the rolling English road
A reeling road, a rolling road that rambles round the shire
And after him the parson ran, the sexton and the squire
A mazy road, a merry road, and such as we did tread
The night we went to Birmingham by way of Beachy Head
I knew no harm of Bonapart and plenty of the squire
And for to fight the Frenchmen I did not much desire
But I did bash their baggonettes* because they came arrayed
To straighten out a crooked road and English drunkard made
When you and I went down the lane with ale mugs in our hands
The night we went to Glastonbury by way of Godwin sands
His sins they were forgiven him or why do flowers run
Behind him and the hedges all strengthening in the sun
The wild thing went from left to right and knew not which was which
But the wild rose was above him when they found him in the ditch
God pardon us nor harden us we did not see so clear
The night we went to Bannockburn by way of Brighton Pier
My friends we will not come again or ape an ancient rage
Or stretch the folly of our youth to be the shame of age
But walk with clearer eyes and ears this path that wandereth
And see undimmed in evening light the decent inn of death
For there is good news yet to hear and fine things to be seen
Before we go to paradise by way of Kensal Green**
* the same as bayonettes so far as I can work out
** a famous cemetary apparently
The Rolling English Road by G.K. Chesterton, so you can't use it. It combines my love of country with my love of beer.
Before the Roman came to Rye or out to Severn strode,
A rolling English drunkard made the rolling English road
A reeling road, a rolling road that rambles round the shire
And after him the parson ran, the sexton and the squire
A mazy road, a merry road, and such as we did tread
The night we went to Birmingham by way of Beachy Head
I knew no harm of Bonapart and plenty of the squire
And for to fight the Frenchmen I did not much desire
But I did bash their baggonettes* because they came arrayed
To straighten out a crooked road and English drunkard made
When you and I went down the lane with ale mugs in our hands
The night we went to Glastonbury by way of Godwin sands
His sins they were forgiven him or why do flowers run
Behind him and the hedges all strengthening in the sun
The wild thing went from left to right and knew not which was which
But the wild rose was above him when they found him in the ditch
God pardon us nor harden us we did not see so clear
The night we went to Bannockburn by way of Brighton Pier
My friends we will not come again or ape an ancient rage
Or stretch the folly of our youth to be the shame of age
But walk with clearer eyes and ears this path that wandereth
And see undimmed in evening light the decent inn of death
For there is good news yet to hear and fine things to be seen
Before we go to paradise by way of Kensal Green**
* the same as bayonettes so far as I can work out
** a famous cemetary apparently
