When they threw the red fox to the hound,
But his brave heart was broke, he was finished,
He staggered, and fell to the ground:
Then up came a sporting farmer,
Who gazed on his corpse with a tear,
Saying, “There lies the last of the best horse I bred,
The last of the Cavalier.”
THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A LONDON CAB-HORSE.
I remember a soft, green pasture,