Fill the Bowl Up

Lord, give us something to cheer about When the Team in Green takes the field; Something that's more than a forlorn hope Against a fate already sealed. Something to raise a beaker to, Some excuse to down a few

We're sated with hopes infused with doubt,

Kept alive by spasmodic gains; Hopes that lure with a faltering flame And smother as the season wanes. With draining the bowl at any cost, With drinking to a team that lost.

Give us a Team that can raise a shout From bundled graybeards in the crowd; That fetches them back to gayer years, Far from the shadow of a shroud. One that would make a deacon clog, Or down a furtive mug of grog.

We ask Thee for a conquering crew To triumph in the Fall campaign; That will put some meaning in the song Of Dartmouth Is In Town Again. Give us, we pray, a cause to shout, Something, O Lord, to cheer about.

Afterthought

Lord, perhaps we are not as devout As pious supplicants should be; And perhaps with fortitude should bear Misfortune's dour adversity, But bowls will flow 'ere Fall is done, So why not to a team that won!