Leg Theory

Oh, what a pleasant game is life
When we are bravely batting
And glorying in skill and strife.
We scorn defensive patting
As Fate sends down the easy ones
We set the ball a-soaring
Straight to the fence and pile up runs
And go on scoring, scoring.

A week it lasts, a month, a year -
Ten years if luck holds steady
No crafty trick may wake our fear,
For every move we're ready
No matter how the ball is bumped.
We are so sure, so clever
We can't be caught or bowled or stumped
We're set! We're in forever!

But comes a time, as I have found,
When in our carefree playing,
Life's game in this vast cricket ground
Grows suddenly dismaying.
Just as we think we're set to peg
Away, thro' centuries rolling,
Fate shifts his fieldsmen to the leg
And starts in body bowling!