The Wonders of the Horse: Recorded in Anecdotes, and Interspersed with Poetry

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Mahlon Day, 1836 - 144 páginas
 

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Página 108 - The glory of his nostrils is terrible. He paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his strength : He goeth on to meet the armed men. He mocketh at fear, and is not affrighted, Neither turneth he back from the sword. The quiver rattleth against him, The glittering spear and the shield. He swalloweth the ground with fierceness and rage; Neither believeth he that it is the sound of the trumpet. He saith among the trumpets, Ha, ha; And he smelleth the battle afar off, The thunder of the captains, and the...
Página 108 - Hast thou given the horse strength? Hast thou clothed his neck with thunder? Canst thou make him afraid as a grasshopper? The glory of his nostrils is terrible. He paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his strength : He goeth on to meet the armed men. He mocketh at fear, and is not affrighted, Neither turneth he back from the sword.
Página 103 - I am going to yield thee up ? To Europeans, who will tie thee close, — who will beat thee, — who will render thee miserable. Return with me, my beauty, my jewel, and rejoice the hearts of my children.
Página 109 - Th' impatient courser pants in every vein, And, pawing, seems to beat the distant plain : Hills, vales, and floods appear already cross'd, And ere he starts, a thousand steps are lost.
Página 101 - Swift through the town the warrior bends his way. The wanton courser thus, with reins unbound, Breaks from his stall, and beats the trembling ground ; Pamper 'd and proud, he seeks the wonted tides, And laves, in height of blood, his shining sides ; His head now freed, he tosses to the skies ; His mane dishevell'd, o'er his shoulders flies...
Página 49 - His chine is double ; starting with a bound. He turns the turf, and shakes the solid ground. Fire from his eyes, clouds from his nostrils flow : He bears his rider headlong on the foe.
Página 22 - AND hast thou fixed my doom, sweet master, say ? And wilt thou kill thy servant, old and poor ? A little longer let me live, I pray ; A little longer hobble round thy door ! For much it glads me to behold this place, And...
Página 110 - He smelleth the battle afar off," and what follows about the shouting, is a circumstance expressed with great spirit by Lucan: So when the ring with joyful shouts rebounds. With rage and pride the imprison'd courser bounds : He frets, he foams, he rends his idle rein ; Springs o'er the fence, and headlong seeks the plain.
Página 46 - But rous'd again, and sternly bade to rise, And shake refreshing slumber from his eyes, Ere his exhausted spirits can return, Or through his frame reviving ardour burn, Come forth he must...
Página 22 - ... linger on the spot where I was bred. For oh ! to think of what we have enjoyed, In my life's prime, ere I was old and poor ! Then from the jocund morn to eve employed, My gracious master on my back I bore. Thrice told ten years have danced on down along, Since first to thee these wayworn limbs I gave ; Sweet smiling years ! when both of us were young — The kindest master, and the happiest slave...

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