 | Rhymes on the rules of the Cheshire bowmen |  |
TARGET RULES.
The Rules of the target come next, as amended;
Sure Hercules ne'er with a labour contended
So great as this task, which our Treasurer's pen did;
With my freedom I know he will not be offended,
But himself, in plain prose when my ditty is ended,
Correct and explain the true meaning intended,
Of ought which my Muse may have misapprehended.
AMENDED TARGET RULES. 1.—That the distance on Target days for the Gentlemen's Shooting be one hundred yards, eighty, or sixty, as the Captain of numbers shall determine, consisting either of the National York or the London Round. That the Ladies shoot six dozen arrows at sixty, and four dozen at fifty. [OMITTED]
Sure Hercules ne'er with a labour contended
So great as this task, which our Treasurer's pen did;
With my freedom I know he will not be offended,
But himself, in plain prose when my ditty is ended,
Correct and explain the true meaning intended,
Of ought which my Muse may have misapprehended.
We, Grandfathers now, we remember when young,
How our bows for a hundred good paces were strung;
Our manikin grandsons, with bows far less weighty,
Now think themselves giants while shooting at eighty;
So, you see, Bows and Budgets are quite different,
One falls, to'ther rises, just twenty per cent;
We Gentlemen Residents, what should we do?
Should he whose finance bill the Lords overthrew,
Should Gladstone, concocting his Budget anew,
Find out that tax us is the latin for yew.
The ladies at fifty yards distance we set 'em,
Should they wish to come nearer, would Crinoline let 'em?
With a National York whether sweeping the ground,
Or outspreading its folds in the London Round.
While the young hit the mark with a single glance,
More shafts need the Fair as in age they advance;
So while ladies at fifty four dozen shots try,
We for ladies at sixty six dozen supply.
How our bows for a hundred good paces were strung;
Our manikin grandsons, with bows far less weighty,
Now think themselves giants while shooting at eighty;
So, you see, Bows and Budgets are quite different,
One falls, to'ther rises, just twenty per cent;
We Gentlemen Residents, what should we do?
Should he whose finance bill the Lords overthrew,
Should Gladstone, concocting his Budget anew,
Find out that tax us is the latin for yew.
The ladies at fifty yards distance we set 'em,
Should they wish to come nearer, would Crinoline let 'em?
With a National York whether sweeping the ground,
Or outspreading its folds in the London Round.
While the young hit the mark with a single glance,
More shafts need the Fair as in age they advance;
So while ladies at fifty four dozen shots try,
We for ladies at sixty six dozen supply.
Should a Bachelor fancy such prizes as these,
He may carry off, marry off, one if he please;
But by laws of our land as by laws of our score
He is strictly forbidden to carry off more;
A Captain of numbers is Cupid we know,
But we ne'er allow Hymen two strings to his bow.
He may carry off, marry off, one if he please;
But by laws of our land as by laws of our score
He is strictly forbidden to carry off more;
A Captain of numbers is Cupid we know,
But we ne'er allow Hymen two strings to his bow.
A man with his two outer Circles off!
If that mean that his waistcoat and coat he must doff,
Then a member debarr'd of his inner white
Must mean he is stripp'd of his shirt outright;
Imagine, if 'tis not too shocking a sight,
Imagine the plight of the Toxophilite!
Arms, neck, and shoulders all naked quite!
Should the ardour pugnacious of Sayers be felt,
This costume might win him the Champion's belt!
Conceive what a din
If a Fight should begin!
To the “Fancy” our Champion making his bow,
As the Hoo Green Hittite, or Pet of the “Pow;”
The Ring finding out what condition he's in
By pinching his muscle, ere staking their tin!
Police rushing down on 'em, through thick and thin,
Declaring such sport has prohibited been!
Good people, exclaiming “a scandal! a sin!”
Swell Coves looking on, and not caring a pin!
Such reception, no doubt, his appearance will win,
For a Gala-day jacket who wears a bare skin;
Less decent by half than a savage when nude,
Neither feather'd nor painted, not even tattoo'd.
If that mean that his waistcoat and coat he must doff,
Then a member debarr'd of his inner white
Must mean he is stripp'd of his shirt outright;
Imagine, if 'tis not too shocking a sight,
Imagine the plight of the Toxophilite!
Arms, neck, and shoulders all naked quite!
Should the ardour pugnacious of Sayers be felt,
This costume might win him the Champion's belt!
Conceive what a din
If a Fight should begin!
To the “Fancy” our Champion making his bow,
As the Hoo Green Hittite, or Pet of the “Pow;”
The Ring finding out what condition he's in
By pinching his muscle, ere staking their tin!
Police rushing down on 'em, through thick and thin,
Declaring such sport has prohibited been!
Good people, exclaiming “a scandal! a sin!”
Swell Coves looking on, and not caring a pin!
Such reception, no doubt, his appearance will win,
For a Gala-day jacket who wears a bare skin;
Less decent by half than a savage when nude,
Neither feather'd nor painted, not even tattoo'd.
He who five prizes wins, loses two for his pains,
His two outer circles he never regains;
His coat and his waistcoat for ever are gone,
But in due course of time, if the winner of none,
His two outer circles he never regains;
His coat and his waistcoat for ever are gone,
But in due course of time, if the winner of none,
We restore and again put his inner white on;
All expense will, I trust, by the Club be defray'd,
The shirt nicely wash'd, and the washing bill paid.
All expense will, I trust, by the Club be defray'd,
The shirt nicely wash'd, and the washing bill paid.
If Red mean a Soldier, since shooting's his trade,
I think he with seven is not over-paid;
If Black mean a Parson, you all will agree,
He whose tythe would count ten is entitled to three;
But it grieves me to think that our good Secretary,
Like the rest of the world, is himself mercenary;
That a bribe should be needed to pull the bowstring,
That corruption should glue to the arrow its wing,
Not alone that its glitter should dazzle the old,
But that youthful ambition should centre on gold;
That Beauty should own it, without any shame,
The desire of her eye, and the point of her aim;
That gold by us all should be valued so much,
That gold should be what we all covet to touch;
Round our hearts that the root of all evil should twine,
That gold, cursed gold, should be counted as nine!
I think he with seven is not over-paid;
If Black mean a Parson, you all will agree,
He whose tythe would count ten is entitled to three;
But it grieves me to think that our good Secretary,
Like the rest of the world, is himself mercenary;
That corruption should glue to the arrow its wing,
Not alone that its glitter should dazzle the old,
But that youthful ambition should centre on gold;
That Beauty should own it, without any shame,
The desire of her eye, and the point of her aim;
That gold by us all should be valued so much,
That gold should be what we all covet to touch;
Round our hearts that the root of all evil should twine,
That gold, cursed gold, should be counted as nine!
The fair winner's arrow is that, which straightway
Hits the heart in the centre—the mark I should say;
Knickerbockers! mistake not this reading—the peg
Is the point it is measur'd from, not from the leg.
Hits the heart in the centre—the mark I should say;
Knickerbockers! mistake not this reading—the peg
Is the point it is measur'd from, not from the leg.
Stand not in advance when the arrows fly,
Lest the Martyr Sebastian's death you die,
Lest gentlemen take your coat-tail for a quiver,
Or ladies a pincushion make of your liver;
Lest the Martyr Sebastian's death you die,
Lest gentlemen take your coat-tail for a quiver,
Or ladies a pincushion make of your liver;
All Shooters entitled to carry a bow
A distinguishing mark on the arrow show,
An ear carried off on its point to bleed
Were a very distinguishing mark indeed!
My Muse, I confess it, ambitious of fame,
Requests for one prize that I put in her claim;
Rhyming and chiming, she justly contends,
A distinguishing mark on the arrow show,
An ear carried off on its point to bleed
Were a very distinguishing mark indeed!
My Muse, I confess it, ambitious of fame,
Requests for one prize that I put in her claim;
Rhyming and chiming, she justly contends,
That a prize should be hers for the number of ends;
If dispute should arise on her points or her hits,
To the President's judgement at once she submits,
Or appeals to the chair where his deputy sits.
If dispute should arise on her points or her hits,
To the President's judgement at once she submits,
Or appeals to the chair where his deputy sits.
Since all this is Eaton 'tis further requested,
That all which is eaten be likewise digested;
Glad the spot where he pleases his tent to pitch,
Is not the North Pole, but the Pole, North—wich,
May the purse that he holds be a bumper of wealth!
While we drink in a bumper our Treasurer's health.
That all which is eaten be likewise digested;
Glad the spot where he pleases his tent to pitch,
Is not the North Pole, but the Pole, North—wich,
May the purse that he holds be a bumper of wealth!
While we drink in a bumper our Treasurer's health.
| Rhymes on the rules of the Cheshire bowmen | |