 | Close of play |  |
26
THERE AND BACK
From seven to twelve I had a rage
For staring at the printed page.
For staring at the printed page.
With mental legs how fast I ran
To be an English Mohican
Along the trail of Do and Dare,
A barnyard feather in my hair!
To be an English Mohican
Along the trail of Do and Dare,
A barnyard feather in my hair!
Nancy and Oliver were friends
For whom I treasured candle-ends,
And, kneeling by the bed at night,
Went red with love and pale with fright.
For whom I treasured candle-ends,
And, kneeling by the bed at night,
Went red with love and pale with fright.
My Mother, fondness in her eyes,
Was glad to feed me with surprise
And brace me when I fell among
Such words as daunted lip and tongue.
Was glad to feed me with surprise
And brace me when I fell among
Such words as daunted lip and tongue.
Then suddenly I burst away
From healthy print to healthier play.
No more at Coilantogle Ford
I stood and kept me with my sword.
From healthy print to healthier play.
No more at Coilantogle Ford
I stood and kept me with my sword.
I seemed to hear a voice cry, “Look!
The Bat is mightier than the Book.
Be Uncas, Hereward, Rob Roy,
Horatius after Cricket, Boy!”
The Bat is mightier than the Book.
Be Uncas, Hereward, Rob Roy,
Horatius after Cricket, Boy!”
27
Imagine me the supple serf
Of two-and-twenty yards of turf
For season after season, till
Age led me quietly downhill!
Of two-and-twenty yards of turf
For season after season, till
Age led me quietly downhill!
I did not join, as some do then,
The cranky League of Withered Men
That sit and add to bygone scores
Unwarrantable Threes and Fours,
The cranky League of Withered Men
That sit and add to bygone scores
Unwarrantable Threes and Fours,
But, pithless, I renewed my rage
For staring at the printed page.
For staring at the printed page.
| Close of play | |