Here is a motto to hold and hug:
“There is but one Cup, but many a mug.”
It was never a trait of the human race
To allow but horse to “go the pace.”
It’s many to thirst and few to sup,
And the rest to drain the dregs of the Cup.
This is a rule of a Cup day revel:
Dine with the gods and sup with the devil.
It’s a Cup brimful of the red, red wine,
And a lucky one and a thirsty nine.
And this is the rule when a winner sups:
He is in on the Cup and on in his cups.
When the woman is slow and the horse is fast,
We may go a pace that is like to last.
When the woman is fast and the horse also,
It doesn’t much matter what pace we go.
When the woman is fast and the horse is dead,
There’s the devil to pay and an aching head.
But, fast or slow, if you play the game
To the end, the end it is just the same.
And these be the sayings of Smug the Saint;
You guess he has lost, but I wot he ain’t.
First published in The Gadfly, 6 November 1907