The Cricket Match or The Game of Cricket (from the Trunch Tradition, Henry and Sid Kipper)

As I was walking out one day, the season just beginning,
I met a maid all dressed in white, a-practicing her spinning.
Young Sir, she cried, are you the sort to only stand and watch?
I have both bat and ball says I, then let us have a match.

I won the toss and put her in, I soon got in the groove,
And as the wicket was quite damp, the ball began to move.
I bowled to her balls fast and slow, we were both cricket lovers
And when I once began to tire, she stroked me through the covers.

I pitched it right up in the crease and then around her head.
Forward and backward, both she played, come one, was all she said,
And then come two, I ran her out, her innings was all through.
She said let's change positions now, and I will bowl to you.

Her action really was so smooth, though it was quite chest on,
And when she got the ball to turn, I knew I'd not last long.
So I began to have a thrash, my score did quickly mount
She flicked my bails and cried, How's that, but I was not quite out.

But now this girl increased her pace, I couldn't deal with that.
She thundered in, before I knew, my middle stump was flat.
Well that had been a first class match and now we knew the score
The game was up, our passion spoent, all ending in a drw.

Now as you sportsmen will all know, opponents are a mixture.
Such a good match is bound to become a regular favourite fixture
And so we play, home and away, and afterwards share a tub,
And one day soon, I feel quite sure, I'll get her in the club.