Base-Ball Ballads/At the End of the Game
AT THE END OF THE GAME.
When I have heard the Final Umpire's call Ring out across the diamond of my strife That ends the little game which we call life,I shall not care about the score at all,How well I fielded, how I hit the ball; Nor all the cheering and the tumult rife, Nor shouts of scorn that once cut like a knife—These shall not matter in the endless pall;
These shall not matter on that final day When life's game passes with the setting sun,If I but hear the Mighty Umpire say: "The records show no pennant you have won,No brilliant average that brings you fame;Yet you go up, because 'you played the game.'"