BUSH BALLADS AND RHYMES 



We neared the new fence ; we were wide of the 

 track ; 

 I look'd right and left — she had never been 

 tried 

 At a stiff leap. 'Twas little he cared on the 

 black. 

 '' You're more than a mile from the gate way," 

 he cried. 

 I hung to her head, touched her flank with the 

 spurs 

 (In the red streak of rail not the ghost of a 

 gap); 

 She shortened her long stroke, she pricked her 

 sharp ears, 

 She flung it behind her with hardly a rap — 

 I saw thepost quiver where Bolingbrokestruck, 

 And guessed that the pace we had come the 

 last mile 

 Had blown him a bit(hecould jumplikeabuck). 

 We galloped more steadily then for a while. 



The heath was soon pass'd, in the dim distance 

 lay 

 The mountain. The sun was just clearing 



the tips 



190 



