Into the fight with unclean hands you rode;
Your spurs were sullied and the sword you drew
Bore stain of outrage done to honour's code.
And you have played your game as you began.
Witness the white flag raised by shattered ranks,
The cry for mercy, answered, man to man—
And the swift stroke of traitor steel for thanks.
Once bitten we were twice a little shy,
And then forgot; but with the mounting score
Our old good-nature, tried a shade too high,