In Preston town where they do dwell

A Strollers side I loved right well

Each year they carried me away

In foreign fields the game to play

I wish, I wish, I wish in vain

I wish I were a colt again

But a youthful colt no more I’ll be

Til apples grow on an ivy tree

In that brave team there were fierce men

With ages ‘round two score and ten

With minds and bodies wracked with pain

Oft time you’d hear this sad refrain

‘Gainst fearsome foes such men don’t moan

With grit and guile they hold their own

Except when colts are on the prowl

And then you’ll hear them softly growl

But just like Lourdes down through the years

A startling miracle appears

A brilliant young man’s try they score

Then hear those lions loudly roar

We do not have to wish in vain

The body’s fine, there is no pain

Then hearts refreshed, their minds soar free

Once more a youthful colt to be