Explore "Cricket and Cupid" by Norman Gale on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
She understands the game no more / Than savages the sun's eclipse; / For all she knows the bowler throws, / And Square-Leg stands among the Slips: / And when in somersaults a stump / Denotes a victim of the game, / Her lovely throat begets a lump, / Her cheeks with indignation flame.
She scarce can keep her seat, and longs / To cheer the fallen hero's fate; / Her fingers clench upon the bench / As if it were the Trundler's pate! / Because this rascal's on the spot / Her passion fails to be concealed; / She asks me why the wretch is not / Immediately turned off the field.