WHEN you have the foe defeated, and the ninth last whirl has come, And you have them one to nothing, looking hopeless, sad, and dumb, And you fan two victims quickly—then get careless, and you walk Some big mark who couldn't hit you, some club-swinging useless gawk, And the next bird takes a toe-hold, and the ball goes forth and thence, Never stopping till it tumbles on the far side of the fence— Then your alibi won't go! When you've chopped the other fighter till he reels around the ring, Taking counts of nine and seven, taking every jolt and swing, When you've utterly outclassed him, beaten him from bell to bell, And another biff will drop him for the final ten-count knell— And you stop to take a giggle; see a friend, and turn and grin— And you wake up two hours later with a lump upon your chin— Then your alibi won't go! When the other team is beaten, and you've won, as all can see, By a touchdown to a field-kick, and the score is seven to three, Just one minute left for playing, and it's all defensive stuff, Holding back their frantic rushes, since the score is fat enough— And a soaring punt is falling—and it goes right through your hands, And they grab it, and crash over, while the uproar shakes the stands— Then your alibi won't go! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE METROPOLITAN TOWER by SARA TEASDALE SONG OF SAUL BEFORE HIS LAST BATTLE by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE TRAGEDY OF VALENTINIAN: SPRING by JOHN FLETCHER IN HOSPITAL: 21. ROMANCE by WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY WHEN HE WOULD HAVE HIS VERSES READ by ROBERT HERRICK TO MRS. THRALE [ON HER COMPLETING HER THIRTY-FIFTH YEAR] by SAMUEL JOHNSON (1709-1784) |