Come An’ Do Yor Share Poem by William Baron

Are yo not comin' to help us, lads, to see this tough job throo? -
What are yo hangin' back for when ther's desperate work to do?
If British blood flows in yor veins, why should we hev to plead
To mek yo see yor duty clear i' th' time o' stress an' need ?

Each week, bi scores o' theawsands,
To th' football greawnds yo throng ;
Most on yo fit to do yor bit
Tort reightin' th' nation's wrong.
While its fate still hangs i' th' balance,
It's no time for sport or play;
We want yo here to help us, lads, -
Come, dunnot answer nay !

Is it no deep concern o' yors whether th' Empire stons or falls,
'At yo'll see us feight short-honded, while yo cheer for tries an' goals?
Eawt here, i' th' shell-swept trenches, yo know 'at day bi day
We're strugglin' 'gainst tremendous odds, an' yet yo keep away.

Will yo not come an' help us
To get th' grim conflict o'er ?
Yor heritage o' liberty
Is th' stake we're feightin' for.
Why do yo hesitate, then,
To strike for hearth an' whoam ?
Yor place is here wi' us, lads -
Are yo not gooin' to come ?

Be under no delusion, th' Empire needs yo everyone,
An' it's neaw, lads, 'at yo're wanted—dunnot wait till later on.
Better bi far a hero's death, an' a place i' th' nation's heart,
Nor live to be towd in after years 'at yo played a coward's part.

Come, lads, an' be eawr comrades, -
We're waitin' neaw for yo ;
An' when yo come we'll mek' things hum,
An' soon strike th' winnin' blow.
To try an' shirk yor duty
Is unmanly an' unfair;
Ther's work eawt here i' t' trenches, lads, -
Sooa come an' do yor share !