Henry Newbolt - musings for slow and lazy days

Vitai 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!"

The sand of the desert is sodden red,—
Red with the wreck of a square that broke;—
The Gatling's jammed and the Colonel dead,
And the regiment blind with dust and smoke.
The river of death has brimmed his banks,
And England's far, and Honour a name,
But the voice of a schoolboy rallies the ranks:
"Play up! play up! and play the game!"

This is the word that year by year,
While in her place the school is set,
Every one of her sons must hear,
And none that hears it dare forget.
This they all with a joyful mind
Bear through life like a torch in flame,
And falling fling to the host behind—
"Play up! play up! and play the game!"

Charles Villiers Stanford : Songs of the Sea

Thank you Sir Henry John Newbolt - such a motivation!

Let me devour

Woods are lovely, over the grass green

Tiny yet jumpy legs, with full of dream!

The worldly musings are way too far

Lulli you, and 

Window of the whole lot is slightly ajar

How therapeutic, misery melts like an ice cream

Oh Dear! come to me like a sweet dream!!

Let me caress- devour with my eyes, O dainty!

Times' fleeting,

Dear, Let my palms be the moulding green.

Jumping around, ready to take on the joyful world