THE BUILDERS OF BELVOIR 



The best horses could scarce keep their place 

 Till he got into Thorold's ' plantation. 



Tom Thoroton, well known in the Vale, 



Who at Flintham takes up his abode, 

 Of potterers now led a rare tail, 



Who with him ne'er quitted the road. 

 But the hounds ran away from them fairly. 



And mounted high Barrowby hill ; 

 Smith's grey, who had carried him rarely. 



Declined, and was forced to stand still. 



9- 

 They fled, like the birds of the air. 



From thence into Grantham's town end. 

 Where Wing stopped his little game mare. 



And Lindo* could scarcely descend. 

 In the former hard part of this run 



His riding was thought quite divine, 

 But alas ! poor Fortunio's done. 



And the contest obliged to resign. 



ID. 



Some folks think it odd now, I take it. 



There's a horse that I never did name ; 

 A secret no longer I'll make it — 



'Tis Smuggler, that horse of great fame. 

 But smuggled goods, unfairly made. 



Are always disposed of at night ; 

 Cornewall's ^ nag, being one of that trade, 



Chose never to come into sight. 



II. 

 Lord Charles * sat erect upon Drone 



With a face that is void of a smile, 

 But he's blood to the very backbone, 



Though his horse would not go the last mile. 



^ Sir John Thorold. 



^ Lindow, a well-known Meltonian light-weight. No one went better 

 in days when men rode very fast. He owned that celebrated Leicester- 

 shire hunter, the Clipper, on which he beat T. A. Smith in a run with 

 the Quorn. 



* Sir George Cornewall, a visitor at Belvoir for several seasons. 



* Lord Charles carried his eyeglass in the handle of his whip ; see p. 122. 



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