And did KP
Inside the line
Hook across England’s outfields green?
And was the holy cut of Trott
In England’s pleasant pastures seen?
And did Bell’s cover drive divine
Shine forth with Bairstow’s clouted pulls?
And was James Anderson bowling here
Beside the dark, satanic Finn?
Bring me Joe Root
Of burning gold
Swinging with pads on; or Matt Prior
Bring me my Swann
Oh wrists unfurled
Bring me my captain Cook on fire
I shan’t but dream of Bressie lad
Nor shall my Broad cease here to stand
Til we have bowled James Anderson
Cross England’s green and pleasant land