The outlook                                        that day:
 The score                                             to play,
 And then                                            the same,
 A pall-like                                  the game.

 A straggling                                   The rest
 Clung to                                       human breast;
 They thought,                                      at that?
 We'd put                                  the bat."

 But Flynn                             Jimmy Blake,
 And the                                           a cake;
 So upon                              melancholy sat,
 For there                                              the bat.

 But Flynn                                       of all,
 And Blake,                                       the ball;
 And when                                       had occurred,
 There was                                a-hugging third.

 Then from                                             lusty yell;
 It rumbled                                   the dell;
 It pounded                                   the flat,
 For Casey,                                the bat.

 There was                                           his place;
 There was                                          Casey's face.
 And when,                                             his hat,
 No stranger                                         the bat.

 Ten thousand                                         with dirt;
 Five thousand                                         his shirt;
 Then while                                           his hip,
 Defiance flashed                                Casey's lip.

 And now                                                  the air,
 And Casey                                grandeur there.
 Close by                             unheeded sped?
 "That ain't                                          umpire said.

 From the                                             muffled roar,
 Like the                                           distant shore;
 "Kill him!                                      the stand;
 And it's                                                    his hand.

 With a                                          visage shone;
 He stilled                                     go on;
 He signaled                                       sphere flew;
 But Casey                                       "Strike two!"

 "Fraud!" cried                                  answered "Fraud!"
 But one                                           was awed.
 They saw                                            muscles strain,
 And they                                           by again.

 The sneer                                                  in hate,
 He pounds                                  the plate;
 And now                                             it go,
 And now                                      Casey's blow.

 Oh, somewhere                                  shining bright,
 The band                                            are light;
 And somewhere                                 children shout,
 But there                                          struck out.