" Archery's come in again! "
So the Sporting Writers shout.
I should like to know just when
Archery was ever out.
Long as I have been alive
Archers bold and archers fair
Have been ruthless with the drive
Of their arrows everywhere.

There is Polly — archery
Is her best accomplishment.
Scores a bull's-eye clear and free
Every time her bow is bent.
True, an arrow seldom flies
When the lady snaps the chord —
She just merely lifts her eyes
And the hit is duly scored.

Then Myrtilla — you should see
Fair Myrtilla take a shot!
Makes her hits three out of three,
Not a miss in all the lot.
Myrtle's arrows they are smiles,
Sped to pierce the human heart —
She, like Polly, uses wiles
Substituted for the dart.

Daphne too is champion
In the arts of archery.
She's a marvel on the run
Where the best of archers be.
Not a target in the world
But doth score when Daphne shoots,
Though no arrow e'er is hurled —
Glances are her substitutes.

'Ware these archer maids, O man!
They are too expert for you.
Watch and ward you if you can,
For their aim is deadly true.
You may think yourself the " beau "
In this little shooting game,
But you'll find before you know
You're the target just the same!