Read "Cricket Songs" by Norman Gale online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
O Bowler, Bowler, when the day is hot, Nor any more a wicket you can get; When Curl and Length and Pace are Gone to Pot Before the blade of him serenely set, "IS" life worth living -- life which only means Your ev'ry ball receives stupendous Beans, And that dread Bat a mighty harvest gleans While your Analysis sinks deep in debt? He cuts the leather hard and square, Nor recks he if it shoots or kicks; He sends you clean beyond the screen, And lifts you o'er the Baths for six?
O Bowler, Bowler, when the Swells all frown And say your non-success is due to Stodge; When you in vain invoke the House of Brown For help the brilliant Batsman to dislodge, "IS" life worth living -- life which only sends Reproachful glances from despondent friends, A varied action and a change of ends, The subtle slow, the Daisy-cutter's dodge? The Batsman smacks you to the Courts, And drives you mad with cunning snicks; He wipes you clean beyond the screen, And crumps you o'er the Baths for six!