THE COVERSIDE PHANTOM 



IV 



The rider's seat was firm and neat 



As rider's seat could be ; 

 The buckskin white was button'd tight. 



And knotted at the knee ; 

 Above the boots' jet polish 



Was a top of tender stain, 

 Nor brown nor white, but a mixture light, 



Of rose-leaves and champagne. 



V 



The heart that waistcoat buttons up 



Must be a heart of steel, 

 As keen as the keenest rowel 



On the spur that decks his heel ; 

 We look'd the stranger over. 



And we gravely shook our heads. 

 And we felt a sad conviction 



He would cut us into shreds. 



VI 



A glance I stole from my double sole 



To my coat of faded red ; 

 The scarlet which had once been there 



My countenance o'erspread ; 

 I blush'd with shame — no wonder ! 



So completely was the shine 

 By the man and mare beside me 



Taken out of me and mine. 



H7 



