"The Perfect Grace of a Day that is Dead" by Will M. Fleming

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A saddle well set down on his back,
   A bridle strong yet light,
With head held high and an eager eye
   Which showed him fit and right.

They asked us could we win that day;
   We said we meant to try;
For the girl above looked down her love
   As we went cantering by.   

We struggled slowly to the post,
   And eager was each nag;
No sooner there and drawn up square
   Than down went the starter's flag.

They settled down to make the pace,
   The bay horse took the lead,
And his baldy nose made some suppose
   That he would do the deed.   

But, holding-hard, the brown horse came
   With a strong and easy stride,
And with glistening eye went sweeping by,
   And shook his head in his pride.

We took the lead, and held it too,
   We swept into the straight;
Full in command and well in hand,     
   He recked not of the weight.     

We sailed along and past the post,
   Won hard held all the way;
And many a mile I'd run that style
   For the glance we got that day.

But we'll never race again, Old Man,
   As we raced that day we led;
We may love the run and a race well won,
   But the light of life is dead.

First published in The Queenslander, 8 August 1896

Author reference sites: Austlit, Australian Dictionary of Biography

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This page contains a single entry by Perry Middlemiss published on August 8, 2011 6:59 AM.

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