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."
