English poem
Who's for the Game?
by Jessie Pope (1868–1941)
Who's for the game, the biggest that's played, The red crashing game of a fight? Who'll grip and tackle the job unafraid? And who thinks he’d rather sit tight?
Who'll toe the line for the signal to 'Go!'? Who'll give his country a hand? Who wants a turn to himself in the show? And who wants a seat in the stand?
Who knows it won't be a picnic, not much, Yet eagerly shoulders a gun? Who would much rather come back with a crutch Than lie low and be out of the fun?
Come along, lads—but you'll come on all right— For there's only one course to pursue, Your country is up to her neck in a fight, And she's looking and calling for you.