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,
...

'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,
...

'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;
...