Too late from scrummage rush the shoal,
The ball skims o’er the opposing hosts,
And gently drops between the posts.
Now change they sides, and soon again
The ball is speeding o’er the plain,
While after it each eager wight
Scampers in transports of delight.
Until at length he respite seeks,
With wearied limbs but rosy cheeks.
His mud-bespattered garments shows