Explore "Five Years After" by Norman Gale on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Many a mate of splice and leather, / Out in the stiff autumnal weather, / There we stood by his grave together, / After his innings; / All on a day of misty yellow / Watching in grief a grim old fellow, / Death, who diddles both young and mellow, / Pocket his winnings.
Flew from his hand the matchless skimmer! / Breaking a yard, the destined trimmer, / Beating the bat and the eyes grown dimmer, / Shattered the wicket! / Slow to the dark Pavilion wending, / His head on his breast, with Mercy friending, / The batsman walked to his silent ending, / Finished with cricket.