The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #65790 Message #1086649
Posted By: John Nolan
05-Jan-04 - 06:03 PM
Thread Name: modern ballads
Subject: RE: modern ballads
This very ancient ballad, which was unearthed in a small New Hampshire town a few years ago, as an oddly modern ring to it. I God prosper our selectmen three, Oor liffes and saftyes all! A joyful mudding once there did On Ten Rod Road befall. II To climbe a hill in Chevy truckes Came chosen men of might, Who knew ffull well in time of neede That Budde wud serve arright. III These tidings came to Warden Browne, In Puddledock he lay, Who sent the mudders present word, He'd stop them if he may. IV The truckes ran swiftly through the woods To reach the Whitehouse hill, The blast of many a knightly horne Did make an eccho shrill. V With mirey tote road steep before, And Ten Rod Road behind, The dryvers mustered gallantly, Payd Warden Browne no mind. VI And long before high noone they had Quaffed down a case of Budde, Then one by one the dryvers went To battele with the mudde. VII To win the topmost of the hill, These truckes roared uppe the slope, Til ooze and slime, 'spite booze sublime, Defeated eche knight's hope. VIII It caused stout hearts great greeve to see Eche noble Chevy foiled White cloudes of steam from truckes did ream, As radiators boiled. IX Then knights, at speede, their dames dispatched, As custome bade they oughter, Through woodes to trampe 'til buggy swamp, And fetche back cannes of water. X At length came there a Champion, Whose strove with mickle mighte And trusty 44 inch tires, To gain the muddy height XI Greate cheers did ring the greenwoode through, And Buddes were quafféd down To celebrate the victorie – When uppe rade Warden Browne. XII "Shew me," sayd he, "what men ye bee That mudde soe boldly here, And with a scant regard for law Do quaff yon cannes of bere." XIII The first man that did answer make Was noble Ceejay hee, Who sayd "Wee wist not to declare, Nor shew what men wee bee." XIV They've mounted in their Chevy truckes, And shewing little ffeare, Sped merrilie from Warden Browne, Ere he could draw his spere. XV Forsoothe their plates with dirte were caked, Thus did they thwarte pursuite, Unhappilie the warden's car, Mired down in mudde, to boot. XVI Now Browne has ta'en a dreadful oath He would avenged bee, On suche as mudding reivers bold, Under the greenwoode tree. XVII Yet God save our selectmen three, And blesse this land with peace, And grant hencforth suche rivalrie, Twixt noble men may cease!