Question

The sun in the heavens was beaming,

The breeze bore an odour of hay,

My flannels were spotless and gleaming,

My heart was unclouded and gay;

The ladies, all gaily apparelled,

Sat round looking on at the match,

In the tree-tops the dicky-birds carolled,

All was peace—till I bungled that catch.

My attention the magic of summer

Had lured from the game-which was wrong.

The bee (that inveterate hummer)

Was droning its favourite song.

I heard in a stupor the bowler

Emit a self-satisfied 'Ah!

The small boys who sat on the roller

Set up an expectant 'Hurrah!'

The batsman with grief from the wicket

Himself had begun to detach-

And I uttered a groan and turned sick.

It was over. I'd buttered the catch.

O, ne'er, if I live to a million,

Shall I feel such a terrible pang

From the seats on the far-off pavilion

A loud yell of ecstasy rang.

Ah, the bowler's low, querulous mutter

Points loud, unforgettable scoff!

Oh, give me my driver and putter!

Henceforward my game shall be golf.

If I'm asked to play cricket hereafter,

I am wholly determined to scratch.

Life's void of all pleasure and laughter;

I bungled the easiest catch.

PG Wodehouse




write the summary of poem?​

Answer 1

Answer:

Me started reading at: 14

Me finished reading at: 41

Answer 2

Answer:

It's to big sorry

Explanation:

or else try it in your own