There's a little iron railing to the south of Potter Brompton

There's a little marble cross beside the road

And a mounted ghostly person rides to hounds across the fields

Tis the figure of a huntsman named Bill Toad

William Toad was a well-known gent who rode from coast to coast,

His love for a bonny dark-haired maid

Was plain for all to see.

Her father was a jealous man and with a gun shot Bill in the knee

The shot went wide, but Bill Toad died

A cad, a rogue, a rotter

They put a cross at the side of the road

"Shot... tween his Brompton and his Potter."

There's a painted iron railing to the south of Potter Brompton

And a cross standing by the 64

And lightly carved in the marble base

Says "BILL TOAD RIDES NO MORE."

Submitted by Ken Dowell

Thornton-le-Dale

Updated: 10:55 Thursday, March 28, 2002