Twas the night before Cheltenham, when all through the forum Many creatures were stirring, creating a quorum; The acceptances were listed by the punters with care In hopes that St. Cayetano soon would be there;
The punters were restless not snug in their beds, While visions of pound-signs danced in their heads; And the Post in its glory, and I in with my wrap, Had just settled our brains for the Festival nap.