The Week the Kraken Woke

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Below the thunders of the upper deep;
Far, far beneath in the abysmal sea,
His ancient, dreamless, uninvaded sleep
The Kraken sleepeth: faintest sunlights flee
About his shadowy sides: above him swell
Huge sponges of millennial growth and height;
And far away into the sickly light,
From many a wondrous grot and secret cell
Unnumbered and enormous polypi
Winnow with giant arms the slumbering green.
There hath he lain for ages and will lie
Battening upon huge sea-worms in his sleep,
Until the latter fire shall heat the deep;
Then once by man and angels to be seen,
In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die.

“The Kraken” (1830)

Alfred Lord Tennyson

The Team Song

Cricket is fear … cricket is fear

It hurts in innumerable ways

We trifle, we dally, we flirt

Let it hurt in innumerable ways

See how brave we are, we are

Though it hurts in innumerable ways

Cos “In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die”

We hope, we hope, we hope

And on the surface die

We hope, we hope, we hope.

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