II.
The months rolled by and spring had come, and there on Rooters’ Row
The same fan sat with eyes ablaze and ruddy cheeks aglow.
He saw the “Second Wagner” strike out four times in one game,
While seven ghastly errors were chalked up against his name.
He saw the “sterling pitcher” who had “starred” at “Rural Falls,”
Yield nineteen massive bingles and a dozen base on balls,
And then above the battle and the rattle of the fray
He softly hummed the chorus of that far-gone winter day:
Chorus.
“In the good old winter time, the good old winter time,
How swiftly from the bottom all the tail-end people climb!
By summer almost every ‘peach’ turns out to be a ‘lime.’
O how they nature-fake us in the good old winter time!”
AFTER THE GAME.
Now that the hard-fought day is ended,
With laurels for the favored few;
The cheering and the jeering blended
In praise or blame that may be due;
Now that the score has been completed,
Beyond the shallow depths of fame,
Among both Victors and Defeated
We’ll turn to those who played the game.
Not in the losing or the winning,
Success nor failure for the day;
But from the battle’s first beginning
We’ll take their work up, play by play.
How well they tried! how they stood ready!
Beyond the world crowd’s narrow sight
We’ll lift our glasses, bravely, steady,
And drink to those who fought the fight.
The game is done, the fight completed,
What matters now who reached the goal?
Alike the Victor and Defeated
Wait for the final scorer’s scroll;
And those who look may read the story
Of star by star against each name,
Set over those with world-won glory,
The list of those who played the game.