Heart Of Oak

And how he used to thrill the crowd The ready eye with bat and ball The village fighter, heavy browed The Englishman who had it all A mighty shoulder to the wheel To join in battle with the best The iron arm, the will of steel And heart of oak to mourn the rest

A power harnessed to the game Once yoked and tempered fades away The willing arm, the steady aim The youth and fire that won the day As twilight shadows dim the field The ageing fighter stands bereft With just the will to never yield And heart of oak to mourn what's left