THE OLD MARE'S STORY. 05 



And I ! If you wish it I'll tell you my story ; 

 But look at the foal I have bred, see him pass. 

 His father's career was a record of glory 

 In racing ; see there ! how he moves on the grass. 



My mistress, the wife of my master, you know her, 

 As good as an angel, as bright as the day. 

 No horse that was bred could disturb her or throw her, 

 How gamely she rode when the hounds were away. 



A Veil, when she was younger her parents insisted 



On making a match with a low, drinking peer. 



She loathed him, poor girl, and stood out and resisted : 



Hut no, it was useless, he filled her with fear. 



My master, the man she loved dearly, was frantic, 

 And swore a round oath he would bear her away. 

 We lived at the time by the mighty Atlantic, 

 Where leagues of bright sand made a fringe to the bay. 



And weird was the night, while the moonlight was falling, 

 Across the grey waters, so silent and still. 

 And weird was the way where the seagull was calling 

 His mate from the cavern, down under the hill. 



But hush ! see the face at the window appearing 

 All hooded and veiled : "Are you ready? Then spring. 

 My darling ! my darling ! " and soon we're careering 

 Along the bright sands with a stride and a swing. 



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