The Mudville Hymn

 

 The Mudville Hymn

Where the heart is, there the muses, there the gods sojourn, and not in any geography of fame.     –Ralph Waldo Emerson, “On Heroism” (1841)                              

On this rough diamond, bound in mud,

No pennant o'er its stands unfurled,

Here once the embattled batsman stood

And whiffed the pitch known ‘round the world.

 

The hurler has in silence slept,

Alike the striker silent sleeps;

While Time the splintered bleachers swept

Down the dark stream which seaward creeps.

 

O’er these mud banks, by this soft stream

Today we set a votive plaque;

Its memory may the deed redeem

Long since decried as Casey’s Hack--

 

Spirit, that made these heroes dare

To take the field, stand up to bat—

Bid lore and legend gently share

Such feats as e’er have fallen flat.

 

----“Casey at the Bat,” as might have been written by Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882)  as interpreted by Richard Collins Davis 

Headline image: "Late afternoon in autumn on a baseball field in Red Hook, New York," (2023) by  Dylan Mattingly