John Roberts had given a miss in baulk, but Villa cleared with a
punt;
And keeping her service hard and low, The Meteor forged to the front,
With Romany Rye to windward at dormy and two to play,
And Yale close up--but a Jubilee Cup isn't run for every day.

We laid our course for the Warner--I tell you the pace was hot!
And again off Tattenham Corner a blanket covered the lot.
Check side! Check side! Now steer her wide! And barely an inch of
room,
With The Lascar's tail over our lee rail, and brushing Leander's
boom!

We were running as strong as ever--eight knots--but it couldn't last;
For the spray and the bails were flying, the whole field tailing
fast;
And the Portland colt had shot his bolt, and Yale was bumped at the
Doves,
And The Lascar resigned to Steinitz, stale-mated in fifteen moves.

It was bellows to mend with Roberts--starred three for a penalty
kick:
But he chalked his cue and gave 'em the butt, and Oom Paul scored the
trick--
"Off-side--no-ball--and at fourteen all! Mark cock! and two for his
nob!"--
When W. G. ran clean through his lee, and yorked him twice with a
lob.

He yorked him twice on a crumbling pitch, and wiped his eye with a
brace,
But his guy-rope split with the strain of it, and he dropped back out
of the race;
And I drew a bead on The Meteor's lead, and challenging none too
soon,
Bent over and patted her garboard strake, and called upon Wooden
Spoon.

She was all of a shiver forward, the spoondrift thick on her flanks,
But I'd brought her an easy gambit, and nursed her over the banks;
She answered her helm--the darling!--and woke up now with a rush,
While The Meteor's jock he sat like a rock--he knew we rode for his
brush!

There was no one else left in it. The Saint was using his whip,
And Safety Match, with a lofting catch, was pocketed deep at slip;
And young Ben Bolt with his niblick took miss at Leander's lunge,
But topped the net with the ricochet, and Steinitz threw up the
sponge.

But none of the lot could stop the rot--nay, don't ask _me_ to
stop!--
The Villa had called for lemons, Oom Paul had taken his drop,
And both were kicking the referee. Poor fellow! He done his best;