> Folk Music > Songs > Tarporley Hunt—1833
[Rowland Eyles Egerton-Warburton]
Rowland Eyles Egerton-Warburton (1804-1891) wrote Tarporley Hunt—1833 in praise of The Swan at Tarporley, where the Cheshire Hunt still meets. White Hart sang it in 1979 on their album In Search of Reward.
White Hart sing Tarporley Hunt—1833
When without verdure the woods in November are,
Then to our collars their green is transferred.
Racing and chasing the sports of each member are
Come then to Tarporley booted and spurred.
Holding together sir, scorning the weather sir,
Like the good leather sir, which we put on.
Chorus (after each verse):
Quaesitum meritis, good fun how rare it is.
I know not where it is, save at The Swan.
Lo there’s a maiden, whose sweet disposition
Is bent, like Diana’s of old on the chase.
Joy to that sportsman, whose horse in condition is
Able and willing to go the best pace.
Racers are sweating now; owners are fretting now;
Stable boys betting now; “France, Ten-to-one.”
Lo where the forest turf covers gentility,
Foremost with glory, and hindmost with mud.
Now let the President prove his ability,
Umpire of seed, whether cocktail or blood.
“Go-by” and “Adelaide” though they were saddled,
And led forth and straddled, judge there was none.
How with due praise shall I sing the palatinate
Ably with presidents filling our chair?
The greys and the leighs and the brookes that have sat in it,
Toasting our bumpers and drinking their share.
Each squire and each Lord sir, that meets at our board sir
Were I to record sir, I never have done.
Sume superbiam quaisitum meritis.
Shades of Sir Peter and Barry look down.
Long may we good fellows, now a day rare it is,
Live to be merry in Tarporley Town.
Fox preservation throughout the whole nation
Affords recreation, then drink it each man.