I Saw the Cricket Ground
I saw the cricket ground in evening light,
In Windsor light with calm men moving through
The evening air and dressed in cricket white.
Long centuries are contained beneath the blue
Of evening sky which folds the chestnut blooms
In its embrace as two teams play by rules
No sky could ever dream. These men are grooms
Of royalty we call tradition. Pools
Of beauty are these matches set in green
And white and blue. They are the future, too,
Should England last as long as glories seen
Should linger, glories that are rigid, true.
When we who live are gone to otherwhere,
Let there be blue and green—and that white player.
