And not let another horse pass:
But years always tell on a horse, sir,
The same as they tell on a man,
And to clatter down roads with a fool on his back
’Twas impossible quite, no horse can.
The cockney was frightened of fences,
On the King’s hard, high road he would go,
So he flogged and he spurred for an hour and a half,
And cried that the horse was too slow.
The Cavalier was there at the death, sir,