[From the Field]
Air--"A wet sheet and a flowing sail."
I.
A smooth sward and a balmy sky,
A bowler swift and true.
Whose "shooters" all our courage try,
As we wield the "willow and yew."
As we wield the willow and yew brave boys,
And "drive" from the shoulder free,
And the "leather-hunters" pant and blow,
And the "ins" are in utmost glee !
And the "ins" are in their glee,
The "ins" are in their glee,
As the "leather-hunters" pant and blow,
At a "drive" from the shoulder free !
II.
Oh ! for a full pitch, straight and slow,
I hear some novice cry !
But the cricketer loves the vollying "twist,"
That will all his science will try.
For his "bails" will surely fly, brave boys,
If he "swipe" with graceful swing ;
Better to "block" with watchful eye,
For it twists like a living thing.
It twists like a living thing.
It twists like a living thing ;--
The wisest will fall to a dangerous ball,
That twists like a living thing.
III.
'Tis the king of Anglo-Saxon games--
The type of our strength confessed ;
Where the charm of perils bravely dared
Inspires each manly breast;
Inspires each manly breast, brave boys,
As we scorn the pain and the toil,
And meet each chance of bat or ball
With an ever-cheerful smile !
With ever-cheerful smile--
With ever-cheerful smile--
We meet each chance of bat and ball
With ever-cheerful smile !
Notes
From the South Ausralian Newspaper South Australian Weekly Chronicle 11 Feb 1860 p. 3.
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