O Statesmen who devise and plot
To keep the White above the Black,
Who tremble when your bolt is shot
Lest love and loyalty grow slack,
There's not a deed of craftsmanship,
There's not a thing Red Tape can do,
Shall knit the Hindoo with the Celt
As much as this — the Cambridge Blue!
No million acres of Despatch,
No tanks of governmental ink,
Can force a native not to watch
For days when England's star may sink.
Build factories to weave the tape,
Make tables for the rice and dew —
Do all your best, and you shall miss
The binding force of Cambridge Blue!
An Indian gentleman to-day
Has staled your tortoise policy;
And thousands cheer to see him play,
A splendid batsman, quick and free.
A game shall dwindle all your cares,
A clever catch and runs a few!
A Parliament may fail indeed,
But not the band of Cambridge Blue!