THE pitcher had a no-hit game All cinched from the beginning— He mowed the sluggers one-two-three Until the final inning. Two men were out—he'd sure come through Without a whack or bingle— The last man swung at nothing, and The ball bounced for a single! Around the ring the champion drove The victim of a licking— He drew his fist back for the punch To send the soft mark kicking— The victim swung one desperate glove, The last kick of the dying, And you could count two hundred where The fallen champ was lying! A rangy, scrubby-looking horse The butt for jokes and chaffing, Competed in a big event, And started 'mid much laughing. This horse came tearing through the ruck, And won out in a canter— But not a dime was bet upon This mark for quip and banter! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON ANOTHER'S SORROW, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE A TRAGIC STORY by ADELBERT VON CHAMISSO BYRON by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER PARAPHRASE ON THOMAS A KEMPIS by ALEXANDER POPE THE HOUSE ON THE HILL by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON A CHRISTMAS CAROL (2) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI RESIGNATION by AUGUSTE ANGELLIER TO THE SHAH (1) by AWHAD AD-DIN 'ALI IBN VAHID MUHAMMAD KHAVARANI |