^ dfair. 99 



Have you time to loose your foothold in the stirrups, 



do so pray ; 

 Be prepar'd, too, if it may be, quick to scamble from 



his way ; 

 Down you come an awful crasher, how the ground 



shakes as you fall, 

 He, alighting on his forehead, turns a somersault, 



that's all. 



You perchance to left or right go, clinging still to 



bridle rein, 

 Rising, if without a fracture, not without a stinging 



pain ; 

 Collar-bone may not be broken — shoulder, p'raps, is 



not put out, 

 But it takes you a few seconds quite to know what 



you're about. 



Never mind, old friend, hard knocks will meet us 



ev'ry turn in life. 

 And its joys may not out-measure in the balance all 



its strife ; 

 But, re-mounting, you'll acknowledge, if you can 



regain your place, 

 That its rapture far outweigheth all misfortunes of 



the chase. 



