lirik lagu tim graham - henry newbolt - 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 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!”
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