Norman Rowland Gale

Remember, Please!

  When the run of the bowler is measured,
    And he, with brows knotted,
  Bowls fierce at your timber-yard treasured,
    To pot, or be potted,
  If the ball to the bone that is funny
    Fly swift as a swallow,
  And you squeal like a terrified bunny
    As agonies follow:

  Then, then is a capital season,
    More fit than another,
  Loose language of silly unreason
    In courage to smother.
  Clean speech is too frequently shamed
    For Cricket to shame it!
  One word is too often exclaimed
    For you to exclaim it!