We read our tales and ancient legends
Stories, songs and saga's old.
But none exceed the valiant doings
Of him we know as Bill the Bold
He. Bill Wyatt, fond of racing,
But living far from any course.
Discovered that the humble porpoise
In sport, excelled the humble horse.
A book of Wyatt's ancient doings
Was published in the days of old.
Exhorting those who follow after
by valiant tales of Bill the Bold.
The many ships that he has builded
Upon the strand of Mersea shore,
Replace the ancient Viking vessels,
That sailed the seas in days of yore.
We saw him morning, noon and evening
Heard sound of axe and chisel cold,
The proudest men would bow in homage
Before the work of Bill the Bold.
Oh Bill, The Wyatt, Bill, the wyatt,
We hear of thee from far and wide,
The King at last demands they presence
He calls men like you to his side.
The Reverend Yonge doth lead thee to him,
From Mersea Isle to palace grand,
Kneeling at length in Royal presence
The King doth raise thee by the hand.
Sayig "Arise Sir William Wyatt"
The King is pleased to honour thee,
by purse of gold and rank of noble
That thou mayest live in luxury.
And now he reigns, Sir William Wyatt
Driving round in coach of four
Whilst store and shed is closed for ever.
And sound of hammer heard no more.
But round the fire on winter mornings
The children gather as of old,
The wide-eyed, listen to the stories
Grand'fer tells of Bill the Bold.
Day by day life' stream doth take us,
And Time doth pass in search of Time,
But Wyatt's name will live for ever,
In stirring tales of work sublime.
Which ever way his soul doth travel,
Perhaps to Heaven, perhaps to Hell,
His work, Eternal, follows after,
And all the World doth wish him well.
A poem of 12 verses from Ancient Mersea Records.
( Author unknown. )
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