THE RACE OF THE YEAR. 95 



Just look at the crowd from the bend of the land, 

 Like bees in a swarm all about the grand stand. 

 The roar of the voices that falls on the ear 

 Has a wonderful sound at the race of the year. 



You've plenty of choice if you look for a nag ; 

 See the blood-looking team come along with the drag. 

 Each horse, in his place as he faces the hill, 

 Breaks into a gallop and moves with a will. 

 The broken-down hunter tied up in the rear 

 Hears the sound of the horn at the race of the year. 



Hut now to the paddock, the crowd is select, 

 Some come to be seen and some come to inspect 

 Two sons of St. Simon, two sons of Bend Or, 

 While Energy's offspring shows well to the fore ; 

 This Gouverneur fills us with feelings of fear, 

 Sent over from France for the race of the year. 



There's something uncommon (forgive me the pun) 

 In Alington's ' brown, good Isonomy's son ; 

 They've entered the horse in the baronet's name, 

 But both have a share in his fall or his fame ; 

 The favourite was bred by the Dorsetshire peer, 

 I le looks like the nag for the race of the year. 



1 Common was the property of Lord Alington and Sir Frederic 

 Johnstone. 



