RIDE FOR DEAR LIFE. 



Furlong by furlong we throw them behind us, 

 Stroke upon stroke with her wonderful stride ; 



Not a pulsation but seems to remind us 

 Life may depend on this desperate ride. 



Furlong by furlong, still beating the measure, 

 Foam on the bridle and sweat on the rein, 



Ever before me the face of my treasure — 

 God ! shall I never caress her again ? 



Over the granite we go with a rattle, 



Up the steep pathway, and down the decline, 



On by the herd of the terrified cattle, 

 Over the moorland we keep to the line. 



Locked ! it is strange, see the gateway is standing 

 There where the roadway is rugged and steep ; 



Bad the take off, and indifferent the landing, 

 A bar on the top, it's a desperate leap. 



Rouse ye, my bonny steed, neatly collecting 

 All your strong quarters beneath for a spring, 



Thoughts of the danger our senses infecting, 

 Life may depend on your stride and your swing. 



Straight for the gate, will she turn? never fear it, 

 Neatly she judges it, gamely she tries ; 



Is it too much for her? now ! will she clear it? 

 Up to it, close to it, over she flies. 



