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Cup and Chaucer

HUGH MORRIS

Saturday, February 19th, 2005

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 “OYEZ! OYEZ! OYEZ!”
Called out Ye Olde Town Crier,
“Hear ye, it if by Decree
Of ye Bifhop and ye Friar,
Who haveth concerne that Englifhmenne
Findeth Footballe moft excitinge,
To ye neglecte of manly fport
Like Archerye and Fwordfightinge…
In thif Parifh fhalte no more
Be played ye Footballe Gaeme
And any whom fhould difobeye
Fhalte fuffer everlaftinge fhame..
They fhalte be locked in ye ftockf,
Excommunicated,
Well hung, drawne and quartered,
Difmembered and caftrated…
Yet if forfooth they ftille perfift
And their fpirit doth endure,
They fhalte be henceforth tranfported North
To beholde Arbroath playe Ftenhoufemuir..
Witneffing of fuch a Gaeme
Fhalte furely put an ende
To enthufiafm for Footballe,
Thereupon ye canft depende…
Now endeth thif Commandement
When my bell fhalte ringe,
In ye Year of 1363,
All fhoute ‘God Fave Ye Kinge!’
Afore I doft departeth hence
There if one more thinge to fay,
Forgeteth not ye Thirde Rounde Cup Tie Matche
On ye Village Greene thif Faturdaye…
OYEZ! OYEZ! OYEZ!”

© Llew Beaton 19 February 2005

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/cup-and-chaucer/