The Spring racing season opened on Saturday.
Galloping, galloping, galloping horses Weave thro' our dreaming in burgeoning Spring; There's sun in our hearts and there's sun on the courses, And paeans of hope Winter's threnody forces Over the hill-tops; for joy is a-wing. Joy is a-wing, and the galloping rhythm Mingles, alack, with a ruefuller rune, For winners may rug but the losers run with 'em, On the galloping, galloping tune. Galloping, galloping, galloping gladly Round the white railing and on to the turn, While keeping in time to it, urgently madly, Pulses are racing, ecstatic'ly, sadly; Eyes to the thundering eagerly yearn, Voice, upraising, are praising, are pleading, 'Mid rackets gay jackets flash by and are gone. Then the field in the sunlight, retreating, receding, Goes galloping, galloping, galloping on. Galloping, galloping, galloping; streaming Now in green distances, seeming to crawl, Like miniatures moving, like manikins seeming, While o'er hedge and hollow a bland sun is beaming Casting a benison over it all. They run to the "Distance." The horses! The horses! They gallop! They gallop! They turn for the "Straight!" They gallop, the hoses! Who nurses remorse is A runagate cringer to galloping Fate. Galloping, galloping, galloping ever, Tho' cheering is over, they gallop amain; Tho' fact and fond fancy reluctantly sever, The round of that ultimate, straining endeavor Still buffets and bludgeons and beats on the brain. They gallop -- Wake up, man! What profits regaining? Luck lurks in the offing. On, on with the dance. Aw, tear up your ticket! The sun is still shining. The next race is starting. Who foots it with Chance?
|Copyright © Perry Middlemiss 2003|