Page:Mr. Punch's Book of Sports.djvu/78

Mr. Punch's Book of Sports So we'll don the flannel jacket, and take out the trusty racket,

And though other folks slay pigeons, we'll forswear that cruel sport,

And through summer seek a haven on the sward so smoothly shaven,

With the whitened lines en règle for a neat lawn-tennis court.

. "Way down in Tennessee."

"Nemo me on pony lacessit."

bards, I hear, have gaily trolled

The boundless joys of cricket;

Have praised the bowler and the bowled

And keeper of the wicket.

I cannot join their merry song—

Non valeo sed volo—

But really I can come out strong,

Whene'er I sing of Polo!

Let golfophiles delight to air

Their putter-niblick learning;

And, scarlet-coated, swipe and swear

When summer sun is burning!

Let artful cards sit up and pass

Their nights in playing bolo;

But let me gambol—o'er the grass—

And make my game at Polo!