Some shooters quiver on the Eight
1
Knowing these are roll'd by Fate
To make them cheer or whine.
The Four's the ball that I adore:
5
She stills my swaying sight,
Stiffens me, tight to the core,
Bids "aim true" and "stroke right".
O! the Four I do adore,
9
And briefly I'll state why:
Its purple shade the barmaid wore
When first she charm'd my eye.