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THE FIVE NATIONS
Whatever game we fancied most, you joyful played it too,
And rather better on the whole. Good-bye—good luck to you!
There isn't much we 'aven't shared, since Kruger cut an' run,
The same old work, the same old skoff, the same old dust and sun;
The same old chance that laid us out, or winked an' let us through;
The same old Life, the same old Death. Good-bye—good luck to you!
Our blood 'as truly mixed with yours—all down the Red Cross train,
We've bit the same thermometer in Bloemingtyphoidtein.
We've 'ad the same old temp'rature—the same relapses too,
The same old saw-backed fever-chart. Good-bye—good luck to you!
