And soon may there follow, Ere sinews decay, A capital season To get thee away! For muscles must wither, Our cricket be flown; And we shall inhabit Pavilions, and groan! Printed by T. and A. Constable, Printers to Her Majesty at the Edinburgh University Press BY THE SAME AUTHOR. _In Verse._ =Country Muse.= In two volumes. (David Nutt.) =Orchard Songs.= (Elkin Mathews and John Lane.) _In Prose._ =A June Romance.= (George E. Over, Rugby. _The cheaper edition nearly ready._) SOME CRITICAL OPINIONS. 'Dowsabella lives again and cowslips are in bloom.'--'A Fogey' in _The Contemporary Review_. 'There is a true country freshness in his lyrics,--birds sing and the breeze blows in them; his Clarindas and other country maidens have the rosy bloom of health and outdoor life, and his verse is musical and finished, and free from rustic affectations.'--_Edinburgh Review._ 'The verse of Mr. Gale, perhaps more truly and constantly than the verse of any of our younger living poets, stands the Miltonic test of poetry, in proving itself "simple, sensuous, passionate."'--From _The Poets and Poetry of the Century_. * * * * * TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES Minor punctuation and printer errors repaired. Italic text is denoted by _underscores_ and bold text by =equal signs=. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Cricket Songs, by Norman Gale