Here I've stood, an' I've met him smilin',
Takin' all of his nasty bumps;
Grantin' at times his luck was rilin'
When reg'lar fizzers tickled the stumps.
Playin' him straight an' storin' breath, Sir,
Closely watchin' his artful wrist,
I've had a rare old tussle with Death, Sir,
Slammin' the loose 'uns, smotherin' twist!
Still I know I'm as keen as ever
Tacklin' the stuff he likes to send,