TO POLICE CONSTABLES SMEETH AND TAPPIN.
[In endeavouring to capture a gang of burglars at Greenwich, these two constables were dreadfully battered. But they kept up the pursuit until the ruffians were secured.]
Your hand, Mr. TAPPIN, your hand, Mr. SMEETH.
To the men who protect us we offer no wreath.
They face for our sakes all the rogues and the brutes,
Getting cracks from their bludgeons and kicks from their boots.
They are battered and bruised, yet they never give in,
And at last by good luck they may manage to win.
Then, their heads beaten in all through scorning to shirk,
Scarred and seamed they return without fuss to their work.
O pair of good-plucked 'uns, ye heroes in blue,
As modest as brave, let us give you your due.
Though we cannot do much, we'll do all that we can,
Since our hearts throb with pride at the sight of a Man.
Mr. SMEETH you're a man, Mr. TAPPIN's another;
Mr. Punch—pray permit him—henceforth is your brother.
We are proud of you both, and we'll all of us cheer
These Peelers from Greenwich who never knew fear.