Hog Ode
England destroyed the West Indies in the cricket today, for the second time in a row. I think that if William Blake was still alive, and had the heroic Matthew Hoggard been playing today, he would have wanted to commemorate it with something like this...
The Hoggye
Hoggye! Hoggye! burning bright
On fields green in flannels white,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant mid-deeps or flies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wickets dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder, & what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?
What the grubber? what the pace?
In what furnace was thy face?
What the cherry? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made Boycott make thee?
Hoggye! Hoggye! burning bright
On pitches green in flannels white,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
Classic!
This makes me feel shamefully patriotic. i don’t like cricket but i like this shameful feeling and this awe-ful poem.