If the wild bowler thinks he bowls, Or if the batsman thinks he's bowled, They know not, poor misguided souls, They, too, shall perish unconsoled. I am the batsman and the bat, I am the bowler and the ball, The umpire, the pavilion cat, The roller, pitch, and stumps, and all. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WATERS OF BABYLON by LOUIS UNTERMEYER TO A MISTRESS DYING by WILLIAM DAVENANT THE BRONCHO THAT WOULD NOT BE BROKEN by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY THE LAIRD O' COCKPEN by CAROLINA OLIPHANT NAIRNE SONG OF SHERWOOD by ALFRED NOYES ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 68 by PHILIP SIDNEY A FAREWELL TO AMERICA, TO MRS. S. W. by PHILLIS WHEATLEY A SONNET WRITTEN BY A NYMPH IN HER OWN BLOOD by CLAUDIO ACHILLINI |