Henry Grantland Rice
Henry Grantland Rice Poems
1910 version
Game Called.
Across the field of play
the dusk has come, the hour is late.
The fight is done and lost or won,
...
'THERE are roads that lead through valleys where the
grass is soft and green ;
There are lanes that lead through morning where the
friendly maples lean;
...
GOOD Luck is like a down hill tide
That helps to make an easy start,
Where one may paddle, drift or glide
Without much effort on his part;
...
WHERE the puddle is shallow, the weakfish stay
To drift along with the current's flow ;
To take the tide as it moves each day
With the idle ripples that come and go ;
...
Back in the Vanished Country
There's a cabin in the lane,
Across the yellow sunshine
And the silver of the rain;
...
HERE I shall wait
To meet the rush of some relentless fate,
Content to know that I will be supreme
...
The cove who never kids himself,
Who looks at facts without a frown,
Who knows that life is full of knots,
And not a bed of eiderdown
...
THE road's a trifle hard ahead;
What of it?
With shadows somewhat thickly spread;
What of it?
...
'All wars are planned by older men
In council rooms apart,
Who call for greater armament
And map the battle chart.
...
GIVE me but room to fight my way,
I ask no other gift from Fate;
Though it should crowd on me at bay,
Where only ghosts and shadows wait.
...
There were saddened hearts in Mudville for a week or even more;
There were muttered oaths and curses- every fan in town was sore.
'Just think,' said one, 'how soft it looked with Casey at the bat,
...
WE have loved but we have lost
We have fought but we have failed;
We have paid the bitter cost,
Yet our hearts have never quailed ;
...
WHEN morning brings the end of sleep
I say, 'This is my toughest day
I'll find the shadows dark and deep,
...
Henry Grantland Rice Biography
Rice was an American sports writer who was born in Murfreesboro, Tennessee on November 1, 1880. A famed writer in his day, he was the man who dubbed the 1924 Notre Dame backfield, "The Four Horsemen of Notre Dame." Rice's writing style was poetically heroic, where athletes became larger than life figures. During his lifetime, Rice was known as the dean of American Sports writers and he had a profound effect on the craft of sports journalism. Rice published a book of poetry, "Songs of the Stalwart" published in 1917 which contained some of his famous poetic recollections of sports heroes, as well as non-sports related poetry. Grantland Rice died on July 14, 1954, remembered as the leading journalist of the Golden Age of Sports.)
The Best Poem Of Henry Grantland Rice
Game Called
1910 version
Game Called.
Across the field of play
the dusk has come, the hour is late.
The fight is done and lost or won,
the player files out through the gate.
The tumult dies, the cheer is hushed,
the stands are bare, the park is still.
But through the night there shines the light,
home beyond the silent hill.
Game Called.
Where in the golden light
the bugle rolled the reveille.
The shadows creep where night falls deep,
and taps has called the end of play.
The game is done, the score is in,
the final cheer and jeer have passed.
But in the night, beyond the fight,
the player finds his rest at last.
Game Called.
Upon the field of life
the darkness gathers far and wide,
the dream is done, the score is spun
that stands forever in the guide.
Nor victory, nor yet defeat
is chalked against the players name.
But down the roll, the final scroll,
shows only how he played the game.
1948 version
(08/17/1948)
Game Called by darkness — let the curtain fall.
No more remembered thunder sweeps the field.
No more the ancient echoes hear the call
To one who wore so well both sword and shield:
The Big Guy's left us with the night to face
And there is no one who can take his place.
Game Called — and silence settles on the plain.
Where is the crash of ash against the sphere?
Where is the mighty music, the refrain
That once brought joy to every waiting ear?
The Big Guy's left us lonely in the dark
Forever waiting for the flaming spark.
Game Called — what more is there for us to say?
How dull and drab the field looks to the eye
For one who ruled it in a golden day
Has waved his cap to bid us all good-bye.
The Big Guy's gone — by land or sea or foam
May the Great Umpire call him "safe at home."
Henry Grantland Rice Comments
looking for words to his poem often quoted by wrestling coach The Turn of the Road by Grantland Rice earl.brinseralbrightcare.org
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5/9/2024 7:02:23 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I would like to know when Grantland Rice wrote 'The Great Competitor'