THE TWO KINGS.

_(Written for W.G. Grace's Fiftieth Anniversary.)_


When Arthur and his Table Round
Thought lusty thumps the best of sport, Sir,
And cups and cuffs, for all but muffs,
Were just the code the nobles taught, Sir,
Their jests were coarse, and swift their coursers,
Their throats were hoarse and strong as hawsers;
And they would shout a loud refrain
The while they pricked across a plain,
Observe this phrase just once again--
The while they pricked across a plain.

Then 'twas the sport of Arthur's Court
To hammer friendly helms with zeal, Sir,
Lo, sounding clear for all to hear,
The Tourney rang with lyres of steel, Sir!
These demigods of matchless story
For Love laid on, laid on for Glory!
Their horses flew like thunderbolts,
Or cut a brace of demi-voltes.
Observe this phrase. The mettled colts
Would cut a brace of demi-voltes.

When Arthur and his Table Round
Had lain in dust for many years, Sir,
Came cricket bats and beaver hats,