‘Ware Holes! Poem : Songs of Action Poetry by Arthur Conan Doyle

Songs of Action Poetry

‘Ware Holes! Poem

by

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

‘Ware Holes! Poem

[‘Ware Holes! ‘ is the expression used in the hunting- field to warn those behind against rabbit-burrows or other such dangers. ]

A sportin’ death! My word it was!
An’ taken in a sportin’ way.
Mind you, I wasn’t there to see;
I only tell you what they say.

They found that day at Shillinglee,
An’ ran ‘im down to Chillinghurst;
The fox was goin’ straight an’ free
For ninety minutes at a burst.

They ‘ad a check at Ebernoe
An’ made a cast across the Down,
Until they got a view ‘ullo
An’ chased ‘im up to Kirdford town.

From Kirdford ‘e run Bramber way,
An’ took ’em over ‘alf the Weald.
If you ‘ave tried the Sussex clay,
You’ll guess it weeded out the field.

Until at last I don’t suppose
As ‘arf a dozen, at the most,
Came safe to where the grassland goes
Switchbackin’ southwards to the coast.

Young Captain ‘Eadley, ‘e was there,
And Jim the whip an’ Percy Day;
The Purcells an’ Sir Charles Adair,
An’ this ‘ere gent from London way.

For ‘e ‘ad gone amazin’ fine,
Two ‘undred pounds between ‘is knees;
Eight stone he was, an’ rode at nine,
As light an’ limber as you please.

‘E was a stranger to the ‘Unt,
There weren’t a person as ‘e knew there;
But ‘e could ride, that London gent –
‘E sat ‘is mare as if ‘e grew there.

They seed the ‘ounds upon the scent,
But found a fence across their track,
And ‘ad to fly it; else it meant
A turnin’ and a ‘arkin’ back.

‘E was the foremost at the fence,
And as ‘is mare just cleared the rail
He turned to them that rode be’ind,
For three was at ‘is very tail.

”Ware ‘oles! ‘ says ‘e, an’ with the word,
Still sittin’ easy on his mare,
Down, down ‘e went, an’ down an’ down,
Into the quarry yawnin’ there.

Some say it was two ‘undred foot;
The bottom lay as black as ink.
I guess they ‘ad some ugly dreams,
Who reined their ‘orses on the brink.

‘E’d only time for that one cry;
”Ware ‘oles! ‘ says ‘e, an’ saves all three.
There may be better deaths to die,
But that one’s good enough for me.

For mind you, ’twas a sportin’ end,
Upon a right good sportin’ day;
They think a deal of ‘im down ‘ere,
That gent what came from London way.

Songs of Action Poetry

The Song of the Bow Poem
Cremona Poem
The Storming Party Poem
The Frontier Line Poem
Corporal Dick’s Promotion Poem
A Forgotten Tale Poem
Pennarby Mine Poem
A Rover Chanty Poem
A Ballad of the Ranks Poem
A Lay of the Links Poem
The Dying Whip Poem
Master Poem
H.M.S. ‘Foudroyant’ Poem
The Farnshire Cup Poem
The Groom’s Story Poem
With the Chiddingfolds Poem
A Hunting Morning Poem
The Old Gray Fox Poem
‘Ware Holes! Poem
The Home-Coming of the Eurydice Poem
The Inner Room Poem
The Irish Colonel Poem
The Blind Archer Poem
A Parable Poem
A Tragedy Poem
The Passing Poem
The Franklin’s Maid Poem
The Old Huntsman Poem

Songs of Action Poetry

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