The Horse 103 



High crest, short ears, straight legs and passing strong. 

 Thin mane, thick tail, broad buttock, tender hide : 

 Look, what a horse should have he did not lack. 

 Save a proud rider on so proud a back. 



Sometime he scuds far ofF, and there he stares ; 



Anon he starts at stirring of a feather ; 



To bid the wind a base he now prepares. 



And whe'r he run or fly they know not whether; 

 For through his mane and tail the high wind sings. 

 Fanning the hairs, who wave like feather'd wings. 



He looks upon his love, and neighs unto her ; 



She answers him, as if she knew his mind ; 



Being proud, as females are, to see him woo her, 



She puts on outward strangeness, seems unkind ; 

 Spurns at his love, and scorns the heat he feels. 

 Beating his kind embracements with her heels. 



Then, like a melancholy malcontent, 

 He vails his tail, that, like a falling plume. 

 Cool shadow to his melting buttock lent : 

 He stamps, and bites the poor flies in his fume. 

 His love, perceiving how he is enraged, 

 Grew kinder, and his fury was assuag'd. 



IVill'iam Shakespeare. 



A Splendid Animal <?" .0 



AFTER a slight breakfast I mounted the horse, 

 which, decked out in his borrowed finery, 

 really looked better by a large sum of money than 

 on any former occasion. Making my way out of 

 the inn yard, I was instantly in the principal street 

 of the town, up and down which an immense 

 number of horses were being exhibited, some 

 being led, and others with riders. "A wonderful 



