Classic Poem

LADIES' HOCKEY MATCH

Air — The Battle of the Baltic .

Of the Battle of the Blues
Sing a really martial strain,
When in parti-coloured hues
Armed ladies took the plain
(With a fig for Mrs. G. and her fads!)
All in caps and dainty shirts
And emancipated skirts,
And, as one report asserts,
Ankle-pads.

Maids from Lady Margaret Hall,
Graces too from Girton went,
Newnham's nymphs obeyed the call,
Somerville her sirens sent,
In the middle of a March afternoon.
Hardy men were on the scene,
Though their fate might well have been
Like Actaeon's with the Queen
Of the moon.

Then the usual copper bit
Was with difficulty spun,
And they looked extremely fit
When the battle was begun,
As the whistle piped the start like a linnet;
" On the ball! " the captain saith,
And the backs are grim as death,
And the lot are out of breath
In a minute.

Heart of oak, they meet and clash,
Passing here and tackling there,
And the sticks of sturdy ash
Fairly bristle in the air,
And the partisans remark, " Played, my dear! "
Till a rather nasty knock
Caused a universal shock,
And the men that came to mock
Shed a tear.

Now the triumvirginate,
Who interpreted the rules,
Were inclined to arbitrate
In the manner of the schools,
And invited any plea or suggestion;
Saying, " What are we to do?
Ladies, we appeal to you;
Will you kindly give your view
Of the question? "

And at length an Oxford wing,
Fleeter than the young opossum,
Getting nicely in the ring
Nearly made her weapon blossom,
As she sent a purler pop through the posts;
Then the temporary rout
Brought the smelling-bottles out,
And the Cantabs lay about,
Pale as ghosts.

But they rallied on the spot
With encouraging results,
And their forwards simply shot
Like a set of catapults,
Ending victors of the field, three to one!
Then, my masters, sigh not so,
Let the Sports and Boat Race go,
Since at least your Ladies' show
Took the bun!