Oh tiny bridge of Woodford Halse.
Who made your balustrade?
Above the sloping river banks.
Close by the leafy glade.
Will your beauty always catch.
An eye that looks discerning?
They look betwixt your balustrade.
At gentle waters turning.
Like sentinels your columns stand.
To hold your capstones high.
Beguiling all discerning eye’s.
Of every passer-by.