William Henry Ogilvie

Here you will find the Poem The Last Fence of poet William Henry Ogilvie

The Last Fence

When the last fence looms up, I am ready 
And I hope when the rails of it crack 
There'll be nothing in front but the Master, 
The huntsman, the fox, and the pack; 
And I hope when fate bids me go under 
In this last of my manifold spills, 
That we're riding the line of a hill fox 
With half a mile start to his hills. 
I hope that last fence is a stiff one; 
I hope, for the sake of our name, 
They may say, ' If the task was beyond them 
They both of them went at it game! ' 
And when the white girths flash above me, 
And darkness comes down on the field, 
Let them carry me home on a hurdle 
As the Spartan went home on his shield.
And when I am out of the running 
Let the good men go on with the pack; 
I would not one comrade should falter, 
I would not one friend should turn back; 
And whether it be on the grass-land, 
The hill-side, the heath or the loam, 
Let the gallant ones keep going for'ard- 
The slow ones can carry me home.
Let them bury me down in the churchyard, 
But lay my good horse where he fell; 
When the ditches are blind in the autumn 
Some friend may remember and tell, 
While under the thong of the west wind 
The day-nettle trembles and stirs: 
'Twas from here that a horseman undaunted 
Went Home in his boots and his spurs.'