On Th' Channel Swim Poem by William Baron

Here's to Burgess!—good owd Burgess!—
Conqueror o' th' Channel tide!
Men uv every rank an' station
Seawnd his praises far an' wide.
Th' world at large congratulates him
On his truly wondrous feat;
Th' bitterness o' bygone failures
Meks success seem doubly sweet.

Tho' worsted mony a time in th' struggle,
Still his pluck he never lost;
Failure med him mooar determined
To succeed at ony cost.
An' at last he gained his object
For he swum fro' shore to shore,
Rivallin' th' feat 'at Webb accomplished
Six-an'-thirty year afore.

Holbein, Weidman, Wolfe, an' Heaton,—
Men 'at knew no thowt o' fear,
Tried th' same task, but gav' up beaten—
Some when victory seemed quite near.
One bi one, these doughty swimmers
Hed ther fond hopes overthrown ;
Sooa Burgess neaw, uv o men livin',
May claim th' achievement as his own.

Air-trips soon may grow quite common,
Crossin' th' Channel overhead ;
Years may see it crossed bi tunnel
Under th' restless ocean's bed.
But for courage an' endurance,
Testin' th' strength o' heart an' limb,
Few shall rival th' feat o' Burgess
in his famous Channel swim.