O! what light through yonder Hertfordshire breaks?

It is the east, and Much Hadham Village Hall is the sun.

Arise, fair edifice, and kill the envious halls,

That dare to pale beside thy cheerful grace.

 

Within thy walls doth merry mirth abide:

The Morris dancers foot it with delight,

Whilst WI dames with cakes and jam provide

A banquet fit for kings — nay, for the night!

 

The floor, so polished, shineth like a star;

The chairs, so firm, dost cradle all who sit.

No draughts do blow, no roof doth leak afar —

Each brick, each beam, a testament to wit.

 

And lo! the keeper of this hallowed place,

One Chairman Neil, of countenance most fine,

Doth govern all with steady hand and grace,

And maketh village life near half divine.

 

So sing I now in prose and verse so bold,

Of Hadham’s hall, more precious far than gold.

Attend thee there, and let thy heart be filled —

For never was a venue more well-willed.

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GPT Will (unverified review)