JACK CHESBRO, good old hurler, you were a wonder once— You made the average batsman look like a goat-horned dunce; You fooled them and you fanned them, and you stung them in a row. But all of this, our good old pal, was in the long ago! And now, when you would speed 'em, the arm has lost its fire— You shoot 'em for a little while, and then you quickly tire; The basehits rattle here and there, the runs flow like a brook. It's hard to say it, Jack, old friend, but you will get the hook! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ENKINDLED SPRING by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE FATHER LAND AND MOTHER TONGUE by SAMUEL LOVER FAIRIES' SONG by THOMAS RANDOLPH MAN, THE MAN-HUNTER by CARL SANDBURG SENEX TO MATT. PRIOR by JAMES KENNETH STEPHEN THE HIGHER PANTHEISM IN A NUTSHELL by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE THE GRANDMOTHER'S APOLOGY by ALFRED TENNYSON |