If sweet the draught Of silken sash and sleeve, The garments are That velvet waters weave! The great gales blow, The seas their lilies wreathe, Long rollers lift Their sheer spindrift And swirl and strive and seethe; The swimmers urge The lunging surge, Compellers of the brine, And stroke on stroke Win through the smoke O' the breakers' battle line. The city ways Make weary days, And weary brains they make ; And city roads Hold heavy loads, And heavy hearts they break; But light as air Our bodies there Oh, fair as love In the blue above The silvery sun-clouds bleach, In the blue below The white-caps' snow Before the soothing breeze, And dear the tone O' the summer moan By the smiling summer seas! WALLACE RICE. THE CRICKET PRECEPTS OF BALOO. Suggested by Mr. Kipling's Jungle Laws. Now this is the Law of the Pastime, as wily as ever a trout; And the man that shall keep it may prosper, but the Man that shall break it is Out. As the sky that is over all foreheads, the Law is for thin and for fat· For the strength of the Bat is the Wood, and the strength of the Wood is the Bat. When Team meets with Team on the greensward, each burning with zeal to prevail, One Captain shall toss up a copper impressed with a Head and a Tail. The Captains shall run to the Copper, as ram when he butteth at ram — Who crieth out Head when 't is Tail not seldom resorteth to -; But, Lad, in thy whiskerless state, and again when thy whiskers are there, Take Luck as it falls by the Copper, and deem it unlovely to swear. Go slow from the Tent to the Wicket; bepadded and gauntleted go; Though the Man with the Ball is a Fellow, the Man with the Ball is a Foe. Confer with the Umpire for Guard's-sake, ask thrice if the Middle be right; Though the Bowler trot slow to the Crease, yet the Ball she shall come as the light. Score daily from Over and Under; drink not if thy will is to stay; Remember the night is for Poker, but forget not that noon is for play. A baby may suck at a Jujube, but, Lad, ere thy whiskers are grown, Remember thy call is for Cricket, go forth and get runs of thine own. Keep peace with thy Club and Committee, nor surlily growl as a bear If, scanning the Order of Going, thy name is the bottommost there. The Crease is the Cricketer's refuge, and there while he faceth the foe, Not even his Father may enter, not even his Mother may go. If thou fall to a Clinker, be silent, and fill not thy friends with dismay, Lest in terror he taketh his Block, lest thy brother go empty away. If thou make not a run for the score-sheet, oh, bitter and black is the job! Thou tellest of Duck to thy sweetheart, to men thou recordest a Blob. If a ball, after rapping thy fingers, is caught while the enemies shout, Prepare for a dignified exit. My friend, thou art certainly out. The Umpire is dominant always; he answereth many appeals; Though ruddy his face, yet his raiment is lily from head to the heels. Beware of a hasty contempt; beware of presumptuous scoff — Ere thou cried on the heart of thy Mother, he bowled a big Break from the Off. The ball that is dead on the wicket thou shalt not obstruct with thy knee; If so, then the Trundler appealeth, and another shall come after thee. Now these are some laws of the Pastime, and he who would cheat at the game Was whelped by the Goblin Confusion, and suckled unwisely by Shame. Yea, these be some laws of the Pastime, and many and mighty are they; But the skin and skull of the Law, and the tuft and the tail, is Obey! NORMAN GALE. THE TWAIN IN WATER. TAKE two stronge men and in Temese cast hem, And both naked as a nedle, there non sikerer than other; The one hath cunnynge and can swymme and dyve, The other is lewd of ye labour, lerned never to swym, Which trowest ye of those two, in Temese is most in dred, He that never dived ne nought can of swym myng, Or the swymer that is safe, be so himself like? There his felow flete forth, as the flowd liketh And is in dread to drench, that never did swymme. WILLIAM LANGLAND, 1361. |