"Before them March'd (and as he march'd he played)
Ventoso in his newest Weeds Arrayed
From Leathern Baggs he squeez'd the obstrep'rous tone
Which humming issued thro' the Concave drone,
While the bold youths arrang'd on either hand,
Around the Field in decent order stand,
Amid the throng lame Hobbinol appear'd
And wav'd his Cap in order to be heard.
The Green stood silent in the Midnight Shade,
All tongues but his were still, when thus he said:
'Ye Champions of fair Lusk, and Ye of Soards
View well this ball, the present of your Lords
To outward View, three Folds of Bullocks-Hide,
With Leathern Thongs fast bound on ev'ry side.'
Ball Filled With Hay Not Air.
Read more in News
Communication