There was ease in Casey's manner as he stept into his place,There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile on Casey's face,And when responding to the cheers he lightly doft his hat,No stranger in the crowd could doubt, 't was Casey at the bat.
Ghosts of melodious prophesyings rave Round every spot where trod Apollo's foot; Bronze clarions awake, and faintly bruit, Where long ago a giant battle was; And, from the turf, a lullaby doth pass In every place where infant Orpheus slept. Feel we these things? that moment have we stept Into a sort of oneness, and our state Is like a floating spirit's. But there are Richer entanglements, enthralments far More self-destroying, leading, by degrees, To the chief intensity: the crown of these Is made of love and friendship, and sits high Upon the forehead of humanity.john keats