Sir Henry Newbolt

(1862 - 1938 / Bilston / England)

Poems of Sir Henry Newbolt

81. Yattendon 4/13/2010

Vitaï Lampada

There's a breathless hush in the Close to-night --
Ten to make and the match to win --
A bumping pitch and a blinding light,
An hour to play and the last man in.
And it's not for the sake of a ribboned coat,
Or the selfish hope of a season's fame,
But his Captain's hand on his shoulder smote
"Play up! play up! and play the game!"

[Hata Bildir]