Cricket at Harrow - Lord Byron

Lyrics
High through those elms, with hoary branches crowned Fair Ida's bower adorns the landscape round; There Science, from her favoured seat, surveys The vale where rural Nature claims her praise; To her awhile resigns her youthful train Who move in joy, and dance along the plain In scattered groups each favoured haunt pursue Repeat old pastimes, and discover new; Flushed with his rays, beneath thе noon-tide Sun In rival bands, between the wickеts run Drive o'er the sward the ball with active force Or chase with nimble feet its rapid course Alonzo! best and dearest of my friends Thy name ennobles him who thus commends; From this fond tribute thou canst gain no praise; The praise is his who now that tribute pays Oh! in the promise of thy early youth If hope anticipate the words of truth Some loftier bard shall sing thy glorious name To build his own upon thy deathless fame Friend of my heart, and foremost of the list Of those with whom I lived supremely blest Oft have we drained the font of ancient lore; Though drinking deeply, thirsting still the more Yet, when confinement's lingering hour was done Our sports, our studies, and our souls were one: Together we impelled the flying ball; Together waited in our tutor's hall; Together joined in cricket's manly toil
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Credits
- Writers
- Lord Byron