To a Wooden Spoon

Emblem of our great disgraces, beaten teams and long-lost races, Calling tragedies to mind When victoria slipped behind

All the other Colleges in sport. Sure we hope to lose you now; In some other town endow Honours of a dougtful kind, With your hoodoo eyes, designed

Seemingly to bring all toll to naught.

Yet, familiar comrade, after Two full years beneath our rafter Some intangible attraction Binds us, paralysing action

In our warriors when their duels are fought.

So Spoon we feel that you'll remain When Easter battles pass again.