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Such a friend as we owe now and then 



To the sympathies born of the chase ; 

 Eaising horse to the level of rider — 



Such a friend we can never replace. 

 The box that stands empty and chill 



May shelter as perfect a frame, 

 But 'twill always seem sacred to him — 



'Twill always be called by his name. 



Chesnut coat, sloping shoulders, small head ; 



Legs that feared neither spavin nor sprains ; 

 A mudlark when going was deep, 



With the blood of Small Hopes in his veins. 

 When Andover landed the Derby 



The theme of my song first drew breath, 

 And, as good on the road as the grass. 



Hunted up to the day of his death. 



He had gone with the Queen's, when Charles Davis 



With horn made the forest to ring ; 

 He remembered the bay Pantaloon, 



Bestridden by bold Harry King. 

 Since the day of that clipper from Denham, 



How many good men have departed, 

 When to Willesdon we ran in the hour. 



And Harrow Boy first was uncarted. 



Not unknown where the doubles of Blackmore 



Lay many a steed on his back ; 

 He had followed Jack Eussell from Catstock 



With Poltimore's wonderful pack. 

 How oft with old Sam and Sir Maurice 



O'er Berkeley's green pastures he strode, 

 Heard the cheer of the keen Harry Ayris, 



Best huntsman, I wot, that e'er rode. 



