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Jessie Pope - `Ware Wire!
Work rating: Low

WHEN the beagles are running like steam, 
When the plough is as sticky as glue, 
When the scent is an absolute scream, 
And there`s wire in the fence to get through 
Who waits to look after his pal ? 
Hung up? then he`s out of the fun. 
Torn, muddy, and blown, every man on his own 
That`s the time-honoured rule of the run. 

There`s wire in the fences of France. 
There are bullets that whistle and spit. 
The word goes along to advance, 
And the wire clutches somebody`s kit. 
" Hold hard ! I`ll unhook you, old chap. 
No hurry. Oh, rubbish  What rot!" 
Shots patter and thud, shells burst in the mud. 
" Don`t pull ! Now, you`re clear no, you`re not!" 

Well, that is how the business is done. 
A sportsman will brook no delay, 
With hounds it`s life and death run, 
He`s out for himself all the way. 
But when black Eternity gapes 
There`s time and there`s patience enough. 
A case of `ware wire, and a pal under fire 
" No hurry " that`s British-made stuff !
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