To General Clarges

Threescore and ten the years since Rugby saw
My bloody battles on the cricket-ground,
And, Clarges, you remember that I fought
Never with any but an older lad,
And never lost but two fights in thirteen.

Why wonder then if I so little heed
The petulance of weaker than myself.

Who play the judge and take the seat above ?

See you not what they want ? they scarce hope wrath,
It would be something would I but reply.
I let them light on any balder place,
As flies do, and forbear to whisk them off;
To buffet them is but an invitation
To come again and blacken the repast.