Casey at the Bat (1912)

by Ernest Lawrence Thayer

CASEY

AT THE

BAT

By
PHINEAS THAYER

Illustrations by

DAN SAYRE
GROESBECK

CHICAGO
A. C. McCLURG & CO.
1912

Published June, 1912

The Casion Press
Chicago

CASEY AT THE BAT

The Patrons of the Game	I IT looked extremely rocky for the ⁠Mudville nine that day: The score stood for two to four with just ⁠an inning left to play; So, when Cooney died at second, and ⁠Burrows did the same, A pallor wreathed the features of the ⁠patrons of the game.
The Hope which Springs Eternal	II A STRAGGLING few got up to go, ⁠leaving there the rest With that hope which springs ⁠eternal within the human breast; For they thought if only Casey could get ⁠a whack, at that They'd put up even money now, with ⁠Casey at the bat.
But Flynn Preceded Casey	III BUT Flynn preceded Casey, and ⁠likewise so did Blake, And the former was a puddin', ⁠and the latter was a fake; So on that stricken multitude a death- ⁠like silence sat, For there seemed but little chance of ⁠Casey's getting to the bat.
There was Blakey safe on Second	IV BUT Flynn let drive a single to the ⁠wonderment of all, And the much-despised Blakey ⁠tore the cover off the ball; And when the dust had lifted, and they ⁠saw what had occurred, There was Blakey safe on second and Flynn ⁠a-huggin' third!
Mighty Casey was Advancing to the Bat	V THEN from the gladdened multitude ⁠went up a joyous yell, It rumbled in the mountain-tops, ⁠it rattled in the dell, It struck upon the hillside, and rebounded ⁠on the flat; For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to ⁠the bat.
He Lightly Doffed his Hat..	VI THERE was ease in Casey's manner ⁠as he stepped into his place, There was pride in Casey's bearing, ⁠and a smile on Casey's face; And when, responding to the cheers, he ⁠lightly doffed his hat, No stranger in the crowd could doubt ⁠'t was Casey at the bat.
A Sneer Curled Casey's Lip	VII TEN thousand eyes were on him as ⁠he rubbed his hands with dirt, Five thousand tongues applauded ⁠when he wiped them on his shirt; Then, when the writhing pitcher ground ⁠the ball into his hip, Defiance glanced in Casey's eye, a sneer ⁠curled Casey's lip.
"Strike one" the Umpire Said	VIII AND now the leather-covered sphere ⁠came hurtling through the air, And Casey stood a-watching it in ⁠haughty grandeur there; Close by the sturdy batsman the ball un- ⁠heeded sped: "That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike ⁠one," the umpire said.
"Kill him! Kill the Umpire"	IX FROM the benches, black with people, ⁠there went up a muffled roar, Like the beating of the storm-waves ⁠on a stern and distant shore; "Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted ⁠someone in the stand. And it's likely they'd have killed him had ⁠not Casey raised his hand.
A Smile of Christian Charity	X WITH a smile of Christian charity ⁠great Casey's visage shone; He stilled the rising tumult; ⁠he bade the game go on; He signalled to the pitcher, and once more ⁠the spheroid flew, But Casey still ignored it; and the umpire ⁠said, "Strike two."
Casey Wouldn't let that Ball go by again	XI FRAUD!" cried the maddened thousands, ⁠and the echo answered, "Fraud!" But one scornful look from Casey, and ⁠the audience was awed; They saw his face grow stern and cold, they ⁠saw his muscles strain, And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ⁠ball go by again.
By the Force of Casey's Blow	XII THE sneer is gone from Casey's lip, ⁠his teeth are clenched with hate; He pounds with cruel violence his ⁠bat upon the plate; And now the pitcher holds the ball, and ⁠now he lets it go, And now the air shattered by the force ⁠of Casey's blow.
Mighty Casey has Struck Out	XIII OH, somewhere in this favoured ⁠land the sun is shining bright, The band is playing somewhere, ⁠and somewhere hearts are light, And somewhere men are laughing, and ⁠somewhere children shout; But there is no joy in Mudville—mighty ⁠Casey has struck out.