BUSH BALLADS AND RHYMES 



His rush roused her mettle, yet ever so little 

 She shorten'd her stride as we raced at the 

 brook. 



She rose when I hit her. I saw the stream 

 glitter, 

 A wide scarlet nostril flashed close to my 

 knee, 

 Between sky and water The Clown came and 

 caught her, 

 The space that he cleared was a caution to 

 see. 



And forcing the running, discarding all 

 cunning, 

 A length to the front went the rider in green ; 

 A long strip of stubble, and then the big 

 double. 

 Two stiff flights of rails with a quickset 

 between. 



She raced at the rasper, I felt my knees grasp 

 her, 

 I found my hands give to her strain on the 

 bit, 



212 



