Sportive Song
An Old Croquet-Player Ruminates
I like to see a game revive
Like flower refreshed by rain,
And so I say, “May croquet thrive,
And may it live again!”
It brings back thoughts of long ago,
And memories most sweet,
When Amy loved her feet to show
In shoes too small, but neat.
I think I can see Amy now,
Her vengeful arm upraised
To croquet me to where a cow
Unheeding chewed and grazed.
And Amy’s prowess with the ball
Reminds me that her style
Was not so taking after all
As Fanny’s skill plus smile.
Yes! Fanny had a winsome laugh,
That round her mouth would wreath,
And make me wonder if her chaff
Was shaped to show her teeth.
They were so pretty, just like pearls
Set fast in carmine case;
Still in the match between the girls
Selina won the race.
Selina had such lustrous eyes
Of real sapphire blue,
They seemed one’s soul to mesmerise,
And looked one through and through.
Yet Agnes I cannot forget,
She brought me joy with pain.
I would that we had never met——
“Your stroke!” That voice! My Jane!