FROM THE WRECK 



And 'twixt the two fences I turn'd with a cheer, 

 For a green, grass-fed mare 'twas a far thing 

 and fast ; 

 And labourers, roused by her galloping hoofs, 

 Saw bare-headed rider and foam-sheeted 

 steed ; 

 And shone the white walls and the slate-col- 

 oured roofs 

 Of the township. I steadied her then — I 

 'had need — 

 Where stood the old chapel (where stands the 

 new church — 

 Since chapels to churches have changed in 

 that town). 

 A short, sidelong stagger, a long forward lurch, 

 A slight choking sob, and the mare had gone 

 down. 

 I slipp'd off the bridle, I slackened the girth, 

 I ran on and left her and told them my news ; 

 I saw her soon afterwards. What was she 

 worth? 

 How much for her hide ? She had never 

 worn shoes. 



