the terrier s prayer

[Guest john the baptist]

Now there's many a song about hunting

packs and huntsmen are mentioned by name,

but there isn't a song about terriers,

in lakeland they've gained lasting fame.

 

 

so always remember your terriers

protect them from wet and from cold

for the love of a tyke for his master

can never be measured in gold.

 

 

Next verse anyone?

[Waz 4,293]

Sommat about a show in London?

[Dabhand 887]

do you know all that poem if so could you put it up?thanks

SONG

sorry mister black and tan are you a teacher or have you just a thing for correcting people?

[Guest blackntan]

do you know all that poem if so could you put it up?thanks

SONG

sorry mister black and tan are you a teacher or have you just a thing for correcting people?

TOUCHY JUST SAYING ITS A SONG NOT A POEM, WAS NOT BEING PEDANTIC

[Guest Eamon.Mc]

[higgins 75]

here's the song in full;

 

Now there's many a song about hunting,

Packs and huntsmen are honoured by name,

But there isn't a song about terriers

Which in Lakeland have gained lasting fame.

No pedigree have these great warriors,

Their colour no rules can define,

But they're bred for there pluck and for spirit,

With a heart as brave as a lion.

 

Chorus:

So always remember your terriers,

Protect them from wet and from cold,

For the love of a tyke for his master

Can never be measured in gold.

 

Whether it's Fury or Trixie or Nellie,

Or Rock, Jock or Turk it's the same

One quality you'll find among them,

And dalesfolk call it ''dead game'',

And whether he's rough or smooth coated,

He'll tackle badger, otter or fox,

Run a drain or creep through a soil hole,

Or squeeze through a grike in the rocks.

 

Chorus:

 

He'll yield not one inch though they maul him,

He'll fight to the death on his own,

Though sometimes he'll be imprisoned

By a rush-in of soil or of stone.

And then the brave lads from the valleys,

To save him will toil day and night,

And join in a hallo of triumph

As he blinks back to God's blessed light.

 

Chorus:

 

Now at Crufts famous show down in London,

They have Lakelands that aren't worth the name.

If you showed em' a fox or an otter

They'd fly for their lives withour shame.

They're not built to creep or do battle,

But to sit on a chair in a house,

And they do say that one recent champion

Was chased down the road by a mouse!

 

Chorus:

 

So here's to our gallant laal workers,

Not beauties, perhaps but they'll do,

With gameness they've also affection,

And make you a pal good and true.

And when your terrier, in old age, is dying,

And the world all about you seems sad,

A lick on the hand will console you,

For a truer friend man never had.

 

Final Chorus:

 

Long live the working terrier.

[Dabhand 887]

here's the song in full;

 

Now there's many a song about hunting,

Packs and huntsmen are honoured by name,

But there isn't a song about terriers

Which in Lakeland have gained lasting fame.

No pedigree have these great warriors,

Their colour no rules can define,

But they're bred for there pluck and for spirit,

With a heart as brave as a lion.

 

Chorus:

So always remember your terriers,

Protect them from wet and from cold,

For the love of a tyke for his master

Can never be measured in gold.

 

Whether it's Fury or Trixie or Nellie,

Or Rock, Jock or Turk it's the same

One quality you'll find among them,

And dalesfolk call it ''dead game'',

And whether he's rough or smooth coated,

He'll tackle badger, otter or fox,

Run a drain or creep through a soil hole,

Or squeeze through a grike in the rocks.

 

Chorus:

 

He'll yield not one inch though they maul him,

He'll fight to the death on his own,

Though sometimes he'll be imprisoned

By a rush-in of soil or of stone.

And then the brave lads from the valleys,

To save him will toil day and night,

And join in a hallo of triumph

As he blinks back to God's blessed light.

 

Chorus:

 

Now at Crufts famous show down in London,

They have Lakelands that aren't worth the name.

If you showed em' a fox or an otter

They'd fly for their lives withour shame.

They're not built to creep or do battle,

But to sit on a chair in a house,

And they do say that one recent champion

Was chased down the road by a mouse!

 

Chorus:

 

So here's to our gallant laal workers,

Not beauties, perhaps but they'll do,

With gameness they've also affection,

And make you a pal good and true.

And when your terrier, in old age, is dying,

And the world all about you seems sad,

A lick on the hand will console you,

For a truer friend man never had.

 

Final Chorus:

 

Long live the working terrier.

thanks for that mate what a song

[Guest john the baptist]

Who's had there nose in a plummer book mr Higgins.

[higgins 75]

Who's had there nose in a plummer book mr Higgins.

actually i googled it first but couldn't find it,so i moochered it and lo there it was!iIhaven't read a Plummer book for so

long now(time has no relevance here),i'm more of a John Higginbottom fan now,much like yourself!Got to go now mate and cauterise the wounds on

all my fingers,the brutes have been latching on again and i have to get old Mayhem back from across the way,looks like the bugger has hold of one of my neighboring sheep farmers prized ewes....oh God,must find my Big Blue Bible....

and get the big fire going again for a good read......oh my fingers are smarting again,i think i forgot to cauterise them.........zzzzzzz

[Guest blackntan]

Who's had there nose in a plummer book mr Higgins.

actually i googled it first but couldn't find it,so i moochered it and lo there it was!iIhaven't read a Plummer book for so

long now(time has no relevance here),i'm more of a John Higginbottom fan now,much like yourself!Got to go now mate and cauterise the wounds on

all my fingers,the brutes have been latching on again and i have to get old Mayhem back from across the way,looks like the bugger has hold of one of my neighboring sheep farmers prized ewes....oh God,must find my Big Blue Bible....

and get the big fire going again for a good read......oh my fingers are smarting again,i think i forgot to cauterise them.........zzzzzzz

THAT AND MANY MORE HUNTING SONGS ARE IN SONGS OF THE FELL PACKS THE YELLOW BOOK