Of Lillywhite, old Fuller, Mynn, this day, my boys, we sing;
Still Parr and Daft are words that burn—W. G. the champion is;
The Walkers, Littletons are grand! Whoever should them quiz.
’Tis a noble game, &c.
’Tis a noble land that bears such sons, who fight in love and peace.
May concord, truth, and unity through all the world increase;
May those who win and those who lose united ever be—
Old England’s pride shall be, my boys, good cricketers to see.
’Tis a noble game, &c.
Anonymous.