The Cry of the Cricketer
The Cry of the Cricketer
Original Text
Thomas Thornely, Verses from Fen and Fell (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1919): 65
1Golf is a noxious weed,
2Transplanted here,
3From the bleak barren land beyond the Tweed,
4To kilted Scots so dear.
5Cease, Vandals, Goths and Huns,
6This game unblest,
7Or teach it to your own dull, breechless sons,
8And let our land have rest.
9No more our tongue defile,
10With words uncouth,
11No longer from their native sports beguile
12Our unoffending youth.
13Your graceless caddies call,
14And bid them pack,
15Rebuild your bunkers where dark Hadrian's wall
16Kept like barbarians back.
17There munch your native oats,
18Your whisky quaff,
19Play your dull game from Tweed to John o' Groat's,
20While saner Southrons laugh.
Publication Start Year
1919
RPO poem Editors
Ian Lancashire
RPO Edition
2009
Rhyme
Form