Cricket Songs by Norman Gale

When red-nosed Winter takes the road, An icicle his walking-stick; When frost is on the woodman's load, And snow is falling fast and thick, Come, lusty youth and sapless eld, Let's make a circle round the blaze And talk of stumps, Of nasty bumps, That flew and came in sunny days. For Cricket is played again, again, At freezing time in Hull or Bath; When summer's done the game's not gone -- There's Cricket on the Hearth!

Here's Jones from Rugby, Eton Jack, And Grandpapa who, long ago, Loved hitting when the Field was slack, And crumped the bowling, swift or slow! No more he's nimble on the green, But what a history he tells Of Surrey men, And hits for ten, And heaps of most tremendous Swells! For Cricket is played again, again, At freezing time in Hull or Bath; When summer's done the game's not gone -- There's Cricket on the Hearth!