Card of Thanks to the Press

It is folly now to aim
Or to seek for distant fame,
But rest content if we can claim
Something of a local name.
On the pleasant banks of Thame,
Because in simple strains we sung
The glories of this country young.
Of cows, and milk, and cream and cheese
And of fat steers sent o’er the seas,
Of horses plowing land with ease,
Of hogs and sheep and hens and bees,
Themes worthy of our songs and glees.