But, lo! From
forth a copse that neighbours by,
A breeding jennet,
lusty, young, and proud,
Adonis' trampling
courser doth espy,
And forth she
rushes, snorts and neighs aloud;
The strong-neck'd
steed, being tied unto a tree,
Breaketh his rein,
and to her straight goes he.
Imperiously he
leaps, he neighs, he bounds,
And now his woven
girths he breaks asunder;
The bearing earth
with his hard hoof he wounds,
Whose hollow womb
resounds like heaven's thunder;
The iron bit he
crushes 'tween his teeth
Controlling what
he was controlled with.
His ears
up-prick'd; his braided hanging mane
Upon his compass'd
crest now stand on end;
His nostrils drink
the air, and forth again,
As from a furnace,
vapours doth he send:
His eye, which
scornfully glisters like fire,
Shows his hot
courage and his high desire.
Sometime her
trots, as if he told the steps,
With gentle
majesty and modest pride;
Anon he rears
upright, curvets and leaps,
As who should say,
'lo! Thus my strength is tried;
And this i do to
captivate the eye
Of the fair
breeder that is standing by.'
What recketh he
his rider's angry stir,
His flattering
'holla,' or his 'stand, i say?'
What cares he now
for curb of pricking spur?
For rich
caparisons or trapping gay?
He sees his love,
and nothing else he sees,
Nor nothing else
with his proud sight agrees.
Look, when a
painter would surpass the life,
In limning out a
well-proportion'd steed,
His art with
nature's workmanship at strife,
As if the dead the
living should exceed;
So did this horse
excel a common one,
In shape, in
courage, colour, pace and bone
Round-hoof'd,
short-jointed, fetlocks shag and long,
Broad breast, full
eye, small head, and nostril wide,
High crest, short
ears, straight legs and passing strong,
Thin mane, thick
tail, broad buttock, tender hide:
Look, what a horse
should have he did not lack,
Save a proud rider
on so proud a back.
Sometimes he scuds
far off, and there he stares;
Anon he starts at
stirring of a feather;
To bid the wind a
race he now prepares,
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thanks