Do They Know
Do they know? At the turn to the straightWhere the favourites fail,And every atom of weightIs telling its tale;As some grim old stayer hard-pressedRuns true to his breed,And with head just in front of the restFights on in the lead;When the jockeys are out with the whips,With a furlong to go;And the backers grow white to the lips—Do you think THEY don’t know?
Do they know? As they come back to weighIn a whirlwind of cheers,Though the spurs have left marks of the fray,Though the sweat on the earsGathers cold, and they sob with distressAs they roll up the track,They know just as well their successAs the man on their back.As they walk through a dense human lane,That sways to and fro,And cheers them again and again,Do you think THEY don’t know?