22 THE FOREST AND THE FIELD. 



No spur ever galled thee, my noble old horse ; 

 I used thee not so as to now feel remorse ; 

 In thy wildest career, or to guide thee, or check, 

 A word from my lip, or my hand to thy neck, 

 "Was of magical power ; and for pleasure or need, 

 A touch of thy bridle could urge thee to speed ; 

 The loud-booming gun could not quiver thy nerve. 

 Nor the wounded gray boar ever force thee to swerve. 



No more shall the trumpet's shrill note of command 

 Make thy hoof spurn the earth and thy nostrils expand; 

 No more to thy curvets my sabre shall clank, 

 No more make thee bound as it swings to thy flank ; 

 Nor again shall that eye with proud rapture be lit 

 'Midst the toss of thy head and the champ of thy bit. 

 So mild, yet so mettled ; so steady, yet free : 

 Oh, never will steed be what thou wert to me ! 



I have laid thee too deeply beneath the broad plain 



For the loathsome-beaked vulture thy limbs to profane, 



Or the ravenous wolf, or the jackal to feed 



On the mangled remains of my long-cherished steed. 



In decent repose and in safety they lie, 



And oft shall I yield thee a merited sigh : 



Thou hast earned it by service, long, varied, and true, 



Then to all but thy memory, old charger, adieu ! 



Other songs followed, tale after tale of past 

 prowess and wild adventure was related, with 

 prophecies of the future, anecdote and jest followed 



