HIPPODROMANIA ? 



And (whatever there may be in heaven) 

 There's Httle worth much upon earth. 



When, with satellites round them, the centre 



Of all eyes, hard press'd by the crowd, 

 The pair, horse and rider, re-enter 



The gate, 'mid a shout long and loud. 

 You may feel as you might feel, just landed 



Full length on the grass from the clip 

 Of a vicious cross-counter, right-handed, 



Or upper-cut, whizzing from hip. 



And that's not so bad if you're pick'd up 



Discreetly, and carefully nursed ; 

 Loose teeth by the sponge are soon lick'd up, 



And next time you may get home first. 

 Still I'm not sure you'd like it exactly, 



(Such tastes as a rule are acquired), 

 And you'll find in a nutshell this fact lie, 



Bruised optics are not much admired. 



Do I bore you with vulgar allusions ? 



Forgive me, I speak as I feel, 

 I've ponder'd and made my conclusions — 



As the mill grinds the corn to the meal ; 



lo 145 



