  Ten more minutes! Say yer prayers, Read yer Bibles,—pass the rum! Ten more minutes! Strike me dumb, 'Ow they creeps on unawares Those blooming minutes. Nine. It's queer, I'm sorter stunned. It ain't with fear! Eight. It's like as if a frog Waddled round in your inside Cold as ice-blocks, straddled wide, Tired o' waiting.—Where's the grog? Seven. I'll play you pitch and toss. Six. I wins, and tails your loss. 'Nother minute sprinted by 'Fore I knowed it; only four (Break 'em into seconds) more 'Twixt us and Eternity! Every word I've ever said Seems a-shouting in my head! Three. Larst night a little star Fairly shook up in the sky, Frightened by the lullaby Rattled by the dogs of war. Funny thing—that star all white Saw old Blighty too, larst night! Two. I ain't ashamed o' prayers, They're only wishes sent ter God, Bits o' plants from bloody sod Trailing up His golden stairs. Ninety seconds. Well, who cares!— One.. . . . . . . . . . . . No pipe, no blare, no drum— Over the Top!—to Kingdom Come |
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