To cheer them, not to advise them,
I'm on this path,--that's pat!
Affection admiringly eyes them:--
Once in a boat I sat!
Pulled my weight at a pinch,
For odds cared never a "cuss;"
No stern-chase caused me to flinch,
But--always detested fuss.
Strain the last ounce, and inch!
Races are won, boys, _thus_!
Look a most likely lot,
Lionlets lithe and young.
Pace? They will make it hot.
Few can have feathered and swung
Better. Tall talk is rot;
But, hang it! I _must_ give tongue!
There's "Queensland" and "New South Wales,"
"Australia South" and "West,"
"Victoria,"--each one scales
Good weight, and with girth of chest;
"New Zealand's" zeal prevails,
He'll swing in time with the rest.
The hero born of Thetis
Had pluck enow. What then?
Each hero here, whose meat is
"Hard steak and harder hen,"
As stalwart and as fleet is
As the Greek first of men!
"Stroke" sets it long and steady;
_That_ gladdens a true Old Blue.
There's nothing hot and heady
In sturdy Number Two.
There are coxens sharp and ready
In the Land of the Kangaroo!
Go it, lads! Swing together!
Push elders from their stools?
Pooh! _I_ shall moult no feather;
Old boys are not always old fools.
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