One would not like a clump upon the head
From the teak-noddled "TED,"
Or e'en a straight sockdollager from "JEM;"
But somehow "bhoys" like them,
Who mill three rounds to an uproarious "house,"
And only nap "a mouse,"
Though one before the end of the third bout
Is clean "knocked out,"--
Such burly, brawny buffetters for hire,
Who in ten minutes tire,
And clutch the ropes, and turn a Titan back
To shun the impending thwack,--
Such "Champions" smack as much of trick and pelf
As venal JULIA's self.
GRAHAM may be a "specialist," no doubt,
And "What _is_ a knock-out?"
_May_ mystify ingenuous MATTHEWS much;
But Truth's Ithuriel touch
Applied to pulpy "JEM" and steely "TED,"
(Of "slightly swollen" head)
As well as unsophisticated COBB,
(If Truth were "on the job,")
Might find False Show and Pharisaic "Stodge,"
And Law-evading dodge,
Dissimulating "Innocence," sham bravery,
Blind Justice, lynx-eyed knavery,
All the material the Satirist loves,
In those same "four-ounce gloves"!

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