Page:Soldier poets, songs of the fighting men, 1916.djvu/38

Rh Drink then to women and to wine,

Though heart and head they steal—

But here's to steed and spear and swine

A brimming glass, no heel,

And humble thanks to God Who saw

His way to make the fighting boar.

To the Mussourie Race Club

O win a race, you need a horse

With speed, and power to stay the course.

The horse that beats the other skins

And finishes the winner, wins—

Not so, Sir, at Mussourie.

I had the devil of a horse;

I won; but failed to scale, of course,

Because the judges, for my sins,

Had backed the second horse (which wins,

When backed by all Mussourie).

A horse that swings athwart the course,

A horse that bumps another horse,

Is reprimanded for his sins;

And he that finished second, wins—

Not so, Sir, at Mussourie.

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