Zy^- IRISH SPORT AND SPORTSMEN. 



Dear old Punchestown 



We give you the crown, 

 And place the " bays" freely on Drogheda's brov ; 



May the black silver lace 



Ever hold foremost place, 

 It was he made it famous, we all must allow. 



The first bell is ringing. 



The stable-boys bringing 

 Each horse to the paddock to strip for the race. 



They have finished the "canter,'' 



Come stop all this banter, 

 The business commences when Long takes his place. 



With the red flag advancing, 

 While horses are prancing, 



His fame as a starter let others relate ; 

 At the word " go," eleven, 

 Like meteors from heaven, 



Are sent on their way for the Bishops Court Plate, 



Then the Bee and Lightfoot 

 Lead the way through the dirt, 



While others are getting quite thick in the "chanter ;" 

 Tom Beasley on Ned 

 Gives the five-year-old head, 



When he lands on the flat, so he wins in a canter. 



For the Drogheda Stake 



A dozen now take 

 Their places ; they're oflf, now the contests begin ; 



See, there goes Lord Tara, 



Like famed " Pat O'Hara;" 

 'Tis Beasley himself that again scored a win. 



The Irish grand military 



Never were dilatory 

 In producing good horses and men too to ride 



With Thunderbolt's son 



The battle is won 

 By Mr. Lee Barber, who hails it with pride. 



The ''piece de resistance ! " 



Come give me assistance, 

 Fair muse of my p^n till I give each his due ; 



For never together, 



In pig-skin or leather, 

 Were nineteen men braver e'er brouq-ht into view. 



