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Lyr Req: Bold Reynolds

DigiTrad:
BOLD REYNARD
REYNARD THE FOX (3)
THE KIELDER HUNT
YOU GENTLEMEN OF HIGH REKNOWN


Related threads:
What are jubal hounds? (66)
Lyr Req: Death of the Fox (Magpie Lane) (6)
Lyr Req: The Keilder Hunt / Kielder Hunt (14)
Lyr Req: Ye Gentlemen of High Renown (5)


The Iguana 04 Jun 98 - 08:59 PM
Barry Finn 04 Jun 98 - 09:05 PM
Tim Jaques tjaques@netcom.ca 07 Jun 98 - 06:16 PM
Anne Cormack 13 Jun 98 - 04:26 AM
Grubby 14 Jun 98 - 02:51 AM
Iguana 28 Jun 98 - 04:27 PM
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Subject: Bold Reynolds
From: The Iguana
Date: 04 Jun 98 - 08:59 PM

Does anyone out there have th elyrics to a song about a fox entitled "Bold Reynolds?" I have heard it sung by Gordon Bok.


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Subject: RE: Bold Reynolds
From: Barry Finn
Date: 04 Jun 98 - 09:05 PM

Just brought back an old thread on the subject for you to check out, look at Reyardine Info?. Barry


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Subject: RE: Bold Reynolds
From: Tim Jaques tjaques@netcom.ca
Date: 07 Jun 98 - 06:16 PM

Bold Reynard? I have a song on vinyl somewhere that mentions hunting him -- I think it's called Steepleford Town.


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Subject: Lyr Add: BOLD REYNARD
From: Anne Cormack
Date: 13 Jun 98 - 04:26 AM

This is a song sung by unaccompanied three-part harmony group "Brimstone & Treacle in Perth WA

BOLD REYNARD

Verse 1
You gentlemen of high renown come listen unto me,
That take delight in fox and hounds in every high degree,
A story true to you I'll tell, concerning of a fox,
In Oxford town in Oxfordshire there lived some mighty hounds.

Verse 2
Bold Reynard being all in his den and lying on the ground,
Bold Reynard being all in his den and hearing of those hounds,
Methinks I hear some Jubal hounds thinking for me to kill,
Before they catch me by my brush, I'll climb that mighty hill.

Verse 3
Bold Reynard cocked up his head and up the hill he went,
Bold Reynard cocked out his brush and left a gallant scent,
Your hounds are staunch I know them well they drive me like the wind,
I'll step so lightly on the ground, I'll leave no scent behind.

Verse 4
We drove Bold Reynard five hours or more without a check of speed,
We drove Bold Reynard five hours or more, we came to Oxford Green.
We caught Bold Reynard by his brush never to let him go,
He's had so many feathered fowls down in the valley below.

Verse 5
Our huntsman blows his joyful sound, reward my boys fulfill,
He'll have no more of our feathered fowls all out on yonder hill,
"Oh pardon huntsman," then he cried, "No pardon you shall have,
Take off his head, likewise his brush and give him three hurrahs."

This is only one of many versions of this song.

HTML line breaks added. --JoeClone, 4-Jun-02.


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Subject: Lyr Add: BOLD REYNOLDS (Dave Toye)
From: Grubby
Date: 14 Jun 98 - 02:51 AM

Here is another version of a Bold Reynolds song, written by Dave Toye, which I have on a Martyn Wyndham-Read CD Called Mussels on a Tree.

BOLD REYNOLDS

My name it is Bold Reynolds. I was born near Bonfire Hill.
That was many years ago, but I remember still
My brothers and my sisters as we played near the den,
With ne'er a care all in the world, my life was easy then.

When I was scarcely nine months old, I first met with the hounds.
I heard their voices through the woods as I came above ground.
I found it very easy to leave them in my wake.
I wandered many miles that day. It was to prove my fate.

While I was on that journey, I met her in a copse.
She had a handsome thick red coat. Straightway my heart was lost.
We spent that year together, had seven cubs all told.
I thank the hounds for sending me along that distant road.

Many times while I was stalking rabbits on my own,
I heard the distant hunting horn that called the stragglers home.
At times the hounds would follow me, but I would have my fun.
Across the fields and meadows I'd give them a good run.

My mate and I, we stayed together, many seasons more.
Pheasants in the wintertime we always had in store.
In the springtime, I worked hard to feed the new born young,
Hunting through the short chill night, until the rising sun.

Years have passed. My vixen died. Now I am on my own.
My legs are tired. My coat is rough. All my seed is sown.
I do not wish a lingering death. I'll meet the hunt again.
And lead them on a final chase. Once more they'll serve my end.

My name it is Bold Reynolds. I was born near Bonfire Hill.
That was many years ago, but I remember still
My vixen and my young cubs as we lay by the den,
But now I bid you all farewell. My life is at an end.

Regards
Grubby

HTML line breaks added. --JoeClone, 28-May-02.


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Subject: RE: Bold Reynolds
From: Iguana
Date: 28 Jun 98 - 04:27 PM

Grubby,

Those are preciselythe lyrics I was seeking. Many thanks! Now I need to remember or track down the tune!


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