YE GENTLEMEN OF HOLLAND.
An Ode to the Dutch Cricketers.
Air—"Ye Mariners of England."
I.
Ye Gentlemen of Holland
That guard your native stumps,
Ye come to bat on wickets damp,
And block the ball that bumps.
The "glorious game" you play amain,
And may you match the foe;
And smite left and right,
While the balls for "boundaries" go;
While your batsmen run 'em fast and long,
And the balls for "boundaries" go!
II.
The spirits of your fathers
Should watch you from the wave!—
The brine, it was their field of fame;
On turf you're just as brave.
As Van Tromp's and De Ruyter's did
Your manly breasts must glow
As you smite left and right,
While the balls for "boundaries" go;
Whilst the batsmen run 'em fast and long,
And the balls for "boundaries" go!
III.
Britannia loves to encounter
Her ancient foes—in peace.
Our march is to the wickets green,
Our home is at the crease.
With volleys from her native wood
She meets the friendly foe,
As they smite left and right,
And the balls for "boundaries" go;
While the batsmen run 'em fast and long,
And the balls for "boundaries" go!
IV.
The willows of old England,
Dutch willows shall not spurn!
Your team we'll cheer when they depart,
We'll welcome their return!
Then, then ye willow-warriors,
Our song and feast shall flow
To the fame of your name,
When to Holland back ye go;
When the shout "How's that?" is heard no more,
And to Dutchland back ye go!