Do They Know

By Andrew Barton Paterson

Do they know? At the turn to the straight

Where the favourites fail,

And every atom of weight

Is telling its tale;

As some grim old stayer hard-pressed

Runs true to his breed,

And with head just in front of the rest

Fights on in the lead;

When the jockeys are out with the whips,

With a furlong to go;

And the backers grow white to the lips —

Do you think THEY do n't know?

Do they know? As they come back to weigh

In a whirlwind of cheers,

Though the spurs have left marks of the fray,

Though the sweat on the ears

Gathers cold, and they sob with distress

As they roll up the track,

They know just as well their success

As the man on their back.

As they walk through a dense human lane,

That sways to and fro,

And cheers them again and again,

Do you think THEY do n't know?