Fives balls protruding from its jaws,
And racquet balls between its paws.
Never again shall we now meet
Thee, Bandy, trotting down the street;
See thee turn over on thy back,
And, deep down in thy throat, alack!
Behold, defended by thy grin,
Our cricket ball, thou dog of sin!
Who can forget the solemn way
Thou mapped’st out thy every day?