East Anglia.
——All the world’s a field,
And all the men and women cricket-players,
They have their innings and their fielding out,
And one man in his time plays many games,
His life being seven matches. First, the infant,
Mowing and poking at his nurse’s slows;
And then the school-boy, boundless in ambition,
But green in judging lengths, slogging like fun,