I'd reckon his weight at eight-stun-eight, And his height at five-foot-two, With a face as plain as an eight-day clock And a walk as brisk as a bantam-cock -- Game as a bantam, too, Hard and wiry and full of steam, That's the boss of the English Team, Reverend Mullineux! Makes no row when the game gets rough -- None of your 'Strike me blue!' 'Yous wants smacking across the snout!' Plays like a gentleman out-and-out -- Same as he ought to do. 'Kindly remove from off my face!' That's the way that he states his case, Reverend Mullineux. Kick! He can kick like an army mule -- Run like a kangaroo! Hard to get by as a lawyer-plant, Tackles his man like a bull-dog ant -- Fetches him over too! @3Didn't@1 the public cheer and shout Watchin' him chuckin' big blokes about, Reverend Mullineux! Scrimmage was packed on his prostrate form, Somehow the ball got through -- Who was it tackled our big half-back, Flinging him down like an empty sack, Right on our goal-line too? Who but the man that we thought was dead, Down with a score of 'em on his head, Reverend Mullineux. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY HUT; AFTER TRAN QUANG KHAI by HAYDEN CARRUTH IMPELLED by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO EMILIE BIGELOW HAPGOOD - PHILANTHROPIST by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON BEFORE A PAINTING by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON ITALIAN PICTURES: JULY IN VALLOMBROSA by MINA LOY SURFACES AND MASKS; 30 by CLARENCE MAJOR |