HORSE....
Imperiously he leaps, he neighs, he bounds, . . . 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; . . . Sometimes he 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."