OUT into the mud and the wet he goes, My hero, tall and strong; Under his jersey the muscle shows, And, Samson-like, his dark hair grows Delightfully thick and long. Out from his feet the black mud flies, His jacket is far from white; Bother these boys with their dapper ties, Who come and compel me to turn my eyes Away from a nobler sight! The hills are red with the western sun, The twilight comes like a dream, But until the practice work is done I strain my eyes for his every run, And I know he will make the team. I envy the fellow who keeps his cap, With so little appreciation, While I stroll back with a soft-tongued chap Whose muscles I know aren't worth a rap, And whose hair is an imitation. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PARIS IN SPRING by SARA TEASDALE THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 55. ST. VALENTINE'S DAY by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER: MARCH by EDMUND SPENSER RAIN by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON MAPLE LEAVES by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH GHOSTS by MARION FRANCIS BROWN THE CAPTAIN'S LADY by ROBERT BURNS |