An early rise with the lark at dawn,
to greet a rapturous, summer morn,
far off from humble abode,
through fields of lavender, I strode
I raised my head and gazed aloft,
to view a sky of blue, clouds, cotton soft,
closed both eyes and inhaled deep,
vitality filled my lungs, as others sleep!
Pleasant aromas then infused,
with lark's shrill song, senses enthused,
erasing all folly e'er I knew,
rendered hence a welcome adieu!
'Twas then my reason to wonder why,
grown men in slumber, prostrate lie
and never rise with the lark at dawn,
nor hear its shrill, invigorating song?
Continuing on my pleasant pilgrimage,
exulted in harmony and redolent fragrance
to a venue of esteem and merit,
where a game is played with fortifying spirit,
Within an open and hallowed ground,
leather on willow, another summer, sultry sound
and on arrival to sojourn for the day,
I took my seat, as an eminent voice called out;" Play"
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