(After seeing her bowl with her usual success.)
St. Leonard's Hall
Helen, thy bowling is to me
Like that wise Alfred Shaw's of yore,
Which gently broke the wickets three:
From Alfred few could smack a four:
Most difficult to score!
The music of the moaning sea,
The rattle of the flying bails,
The grey sad spires, the tawny sails-
What memories they bring to me,
Beholding thee!
Upon our old monastic pitch,
How sportsmanlike I see thee stand!
The leather in thy lily hand,
Oh, Helen of the yorkers, which
Are nobly planned!
To Helen
Andrew Lang
(1)
Poem topics: music, sad, sea, success, wise, bring, difficult, stand, score, gently, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about To Helen poem by Andrew Lang
Best Poems of Andrew Lang