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The Spike: or, Victoria College Review 1912

To a Recalcitrant Belt

To a Recalcitrant Belt.

From your seclusion come, my belt,
And seek your once accustomed channels,
And feel once more the joy you felt
At sight of jersey, shorts, or flannels.
A belt that once decked Joan or Sue
Might like to lie and rest in camphor,
But surely that's a thing that you
Don't care a dam for.

Most like your relative afar
Who clasps the waist of slim Orion,
You too embraced a shining star,
Or shall we say Olympic lion;
Who, be the foeman wild or meek,
Would, drawing you a little tighter,
Into the middle of next week
Dispatch the blighter.

Remember, those spectator folks
Who have us always at their mercy,
Would greet my usual brilliant strokes
With shouts of joy and "Well played, Percy."
page 44 And if by chance I made a duck,
Then Bertie would explain to Freddy
That it was awfully rotten luck,
I wasn't ready.

Remember too those glorious tries
Achieved by runs both fleet and dodgy,
Which hallowed me within the eyes
Of maidens coy and mothers stodgy!;
How, when the hostile lines I sent
To taste defeat's most bitter doses,
You shared, my belt, my subsequent
Apotheosis.

But that was nearly half a score
Of limping years agone, old leather,
And now they ask us just once more
To try our old-time luck together.
So round you go, we'll show at least
Our ears aren't deaf to such entreating;
What's this? Your ends, you graceless beast,
Refuse the meeting!

—S.E.