More Cricket Songs

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Title: More Cricket Songs
Author: Norman Gale
Release Date: August 13, 2004 [EBook #13167]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
? START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORE CRICKET SONGS ***
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MORE CRICKET SONGS
by Norman Gale
Author of "Cricket Songs" "Barty's Star" "A Country Muse" And other works.
1905
DEAR JOHN DENTON,
Not long ago you reminded me that once, when you were a boy and I was a schoolmaster, I was angry with you because you pouted all through a lesson in arithmetic. Let bygones be bygones, and accept as a proof of my continuing friendship the dedication of this little volume, in which there are no other sums than those of the Telegraph.
Most sincerely yours,
NORMAN GALE.
Here's to the lad with his useful Fifteen,?Here's to the Bowler that's thrifty,?Here's to the Bat who is Lord of the Green?With his frequent and thundering Fifty!
For their courtesy in allowing him to reprint some of these songs the Author thanks the Editor of The Westminster Gazette, Prince Ranjitsinhji, Mr. James Bowden, the Editor of The Country, and the Editor of The Sun.
OILING?THE GOLDEN GAME?THE FEMALE BOY?THE DARK BOWLER?UNCLE BOB INDIGNANT?THE TUTOR'S LAMENT?A WIGGING?THE TWO KINGS?THE APPEAL?THE OLYMPIANS?THE OLD PROFESSIONAL?FIVE YEARS AFTER?DOCTOR CRICKET?PHILOSOPHY?THE ENTHUSIAST?CRICKET AND CUPID?A BOUNDARY?THE COMMENTATOR?LUCKY LADS?CRICKET IN THE GARDEN?THE PRINCE, BATTING?THE REASON?A LONG GRACE?REMEMBER, PLEASE!?THE FORERUNNERS?NET PRACTICE?THE CATCH OF THE SEASON
OILING.
_(A Song In and Out of Season.)_
Excuse me, Sweetheart, if I smear,?With wisdom learnt from ancient teachers,?Now winter time once more is here,?This grease upon your lengthy features!?Behaving thus, your loyal friend?No whit encourages deception:?Believe me, Fairest, in the end?This oil will better your complexion.?Fairest, believe!
Did you imagine in the bag?To sleep the sleep of Rip Van Winkle,?Removed from sunshine's golden flag?And duller daylight's smallest twinkle??Well have you earned your rest; but yet,?Although disturbance seem uncivil,?Unless your cheeks and chin be wet?With oil, your beauteousness will shrivel.?Rarest, believe!
Absorb, that, when for our delight?The May unpacks its lovely blossom,?With beaming face, with shoulders bright?You leave the bag's congenial bosom.?Then shall the Lover and his Lass?Walk out toward the pitch together,?And, glorying in the shaven grass,?Tackle, with mutual faith, the leather.
Dearest, absorb!
THE GOLDEN GAME.
If ever there was a Golden Game?To brace the nerves, to cure repining,?To put the Dumps to flight and shame,?It's Cricket when the sun is shining!?Gentlemen, toss the foolscap by,?Gentlemen, change from books to leather!?Breathe your fill of the breeze from the hill,?Thanking Bliss for the great blue weather.
If ever there was a bag could beat?The box possessed by Miss Pandora,?'Tis that in which there cuddle neat?The tools to shape the flying Fourer.?Gentlemen, watch the purple ball!?Gentlemen, keep your wits in tether!?Take your joy with the heart of a boy?Under the dome of the big blue weather.
If ever I feel my veins abound?With zealous blood more fit for Twenty,?'Tis when upon the shaven ground?Fair Fortune gives me runs in plenty.?Gentlemen all, while sinews last,?Bat ye, bowl ye, friends together!?Play the play till the end of your day,?Mellowest mates in the big blue weather!
But ever the ancient tale is told,?And History (the jade!) repeated:?By Time, who's never over-bowled,?At last we find ourselves defeated.?Gentlemen all, though stiff we be,?Youth comes along in finest feather,?Just as keen as we all have been?Out on the turf in the great blue weather!
There's ever the deathless solace left--?To gaze at younger heroes smiting,?Of neither grit nor hope bereft,?Up to the end for victory fighting.?Gentlemen all, we taste delight,?Banished now from the stream and heather,?Calm and cool on an old camp-stool,?Watching the game in the big blue weather!
THE FEMALE BOY.
If cursed by a son who declined to play cricket,?(Supposing him sound and sufficient in thews,)?I'd larrup him well with the third of a wicket,?Selecting safe parts of his body to bruise.?In his mind such an urchin King Solomon had?When he said, Spare the stump, and you bungle the lad!
For what in the world is the use of a creature?All flabbily bent on avoiding the Pitch??Who wanders about, with a sob in each feature,?Devising a headache, inventing a stitch??There surely would be a quick end to my joy?If possessed of that monster--the feminine boy!--
The feminine boy who declines upon croquet,?Or halma, or spillikins (horrible sport!),?Or any amusement that's female and pokey,?And flatly objects to behave as he ought!?I know him of old. He is lazy and fat,?Instead of this Thing, fit for punishment drastic,?Give, Fortune, a son who is nimble and keen;?A bright-hearted sample of human elastic,?As fast as an antelope, supple and clean;?Far other than he in