44 THE POST-BOY'S DREAM. 



And hark ! — an excitement — there's someone approaching. 



" A chaise out directly — the chestnut and grey." 

 The sun is going down, and the twilight's encroaching. 



"Away at a gallop ! Go on, Bill, away ! " 



And now he can feel her, the chestnut he's riding, 

 The lean neck and quarters, the wonderful stride ; 



The game little grey, who is always confiding ; 

 A creature in whom it's a treat to confide. 



And still he can hear them still beating the measure, 

 The roll of the gallop, the hum of the wheels, 



The runaway couple inside. It's a pleasure 

 To do them a turn, so he gallops and feels 



The old spirit rising within him, and rousing 

 The horses who make little count of their load ; 



He passes a cluster of yokels carousing, 



Who give him a toast—" The romance of the road." 



Then onward again, where the shadows are falling ; 



Then onward again, till they come to the mail, 

 Which the young couple join, while the guard greets them, 

 calling 



Out : " London ? Yes ? Up with you ! "—onward they sail. 



And then a confusion of traffic arises 



Before him along the long highway again ; 

 A varied assortment of sorts and surprises, 



A mixture of vehicles, gaudy and plain. 



