And do not make the least delay,
And to Dunmow town pray haste away,
And carry off the bacon.
There’s special trains from distant parts,
Young and old, with joyful hearts,
In coaches, gigs, and donkey carts,
Have come to the flitch of bacon;
Sound the trumpets, beat the drums,
See how the lads and lasses run,
To Burton’s meadow they have come,