(_MR. PUNCH TO HIS BOYS AT BISLEY._)

Well, here you are, my bonny boys!
No doubt you felt regret at parting
With well-known Wimbledonian joys.
But here you look all right, at starting.
You've not been _quite_ deranged by RANGER;
Of that there never was much danger.

Small thanks to _him_! Well, well, perhaps;
But never mind. Anger's too grisly
To be long held by such smart chaps;
And you can make Bulls'-eyes at Bisley;
And "sheep's'-eyes" seem to show you're "on
With that New Love"--New Wimbledon!

'Tis _Juliet_ now--not _Rosaline_;
Well, _Romeo_, take my benediction.
The Maid is fair, her dwelling fine.
And here you need not fear "Eviction."
"Disturbance" caused some indignation,
But, after all, there's "Compensation."

Your New Love's fair, furze-garmented,
And brightly crowned with golden bracken.
Your loyalty of heart and head,
Of love (and lead) I'm sure won't slacken.
"Bless ye, my children! May your New Love
Be firm and lasting as 'tis true love!"