Hither and thither, round the ring,
Then from Heenanus’ clinch of brass
Sayerius, smiling, slips to grass!
I trow mine ancient breath would fail
To follow through the fight,
Each gallant round’s still changing tale,
Each feat of left and right.
How nine times in that desperate Mill
Heenanus, in his strength,
Knocked stout Sayerius off his pins,