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Soldier Poets
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
TO 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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