If you or I the Champion’s belt shall wear;
And be assured, regardless of the tin,
I’ll go to work, and do my best to win,
Prove that in fight one Briton can surpass ye,
And if you ask his name, I thunder—Brassey!
What proof of milling prowess did you show
In your two scrambling fights with Bendigo?
When of your foeman’s punishment aware,
You roughly squeezed him like a polar bear,
Nearly extinguished in his lungs the breath,