Recovered lines from T.S. Eliot's lost "The Love Song of J. Honus Wagner":
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Joe DiMaggio.
The yellow pole that rubs its back upon the right-field stands
The yellow pole that rubs its muzzle on the left-field stands,
Licked its net into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the beers that sloshed the fans...
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a swing to meet the pitches that you meet;
There will be time to check swing and debate,
And time for all the calls so wrong of hands
That lift and drop a call on your home plate...
For I have played them all already, played them all:
Have played the night games, day games, games at noon,
I have measured out my life with rain-out tunes.
I should have been a pair of batting gloves
Scuttling across the dirt of silent fields.
No! I am not Brad Radke, nor was meant to be;
Am a middle reliever, one that will do
To walk a batter, pitch an out or two...
Shall I turn my cap around? Do I dare to take a strike?
I have heard the catcher calling out the pitch.
I do not think that they will pitch to me.