A KNIGHT OF THE WILLOW;
Or, why not "Sir W. G. Grace"?
["Dr. W. G. Grace, whose name has been everywhere of late—except where it might well have been, on the Birthday Honours list."—Times.]
Why not? Great Scott! "The play's the thing,"
Before the footlights, round the ring
At Lord's, it little matters,—
Easily first is easily first!
Just fancy what a glorious burst
From throats aglow with zeal—and thirst—
Would hail the Knight of Batters!
They've shouted for him many a time,
Whose mellow age is still his prime,
And others' youth surpasses;
But how they'd make the welkin split
If honours donors had the wit
To knight this Hero of the Hit,
And favourite of the masses!
"The play's the thing." Sir Henry Irving
Sounds well. Who'll question his deserving
When 'midst the knights they place it?
But here's a player just as great
In his own field. Why should he wait?
However high be knighthood's state,
The name of Grace will grace it!
What greater joy to crowds affords
Than the announcement "Grace at Lord's"?
What lots of "Lords" and "Graces"
Do less than England's W. G.
To furnish genuine sport and glee
To thousands, who still throng to see
How well he "times" and "places."
True, "Thunderer," true! He stands the test.
Unmatched, unchallengeable Best
At our best game! Requite him!
For thirty years to hold first place,
And still, unpassed, keep up the pace,
Pleases a stout, sport-loving race.
By Jove, "Sir William Gilbert Grace"
Sounds splendid. Punch says—"Knight him!"