PART II
Still pulling double, black Kubbadar led,
Pulling his rider half over his head;
Soyland's cream jacket was spotted with red,
Spotted with dirt from the rush of their tread.
Bright bay Sir Lopez, the loveliest there,
Galloped at ease as though taking the air,
Well in his compass with plenty to spare.
Gavotte and The Ghost and the brown Counter Vair,
Followed him close with Syringa the mare,
And the roan horse Red Ember who went like a hare,
And Forward-Ho bolting, though his rider did swear.
Keeping this order, they reached the next fence,
Which was living plashed blackthorn with gorse-toppings dense;
In the gloom of its darkness it loomed up immense.
Forward-Ho's glory had conquered his sense
And he rushed it, not rising, and never went thence.
And down in the ditch where the gorse-spikes were scattered,
That bright chestnut's soul from his body was shattered,
And his rider shed tears on the dear head all spattered.
King Tony came down, but got up with a stumble,
His rider went sideways, but knew how to tumble,
And got up and remounted, though the pain made him humble,
And he rode fifty yards and then stopped in a fumble.
With a rush and a crashing Right Royal went over
With the stride of a stalwart and the blood of a lover,
He landed on stubble now pushing with clover.
And just as he landed, the March sun shone bright
And the blue sky showed flamelike and the dun clouds turned white;
The little larks panted aloft their delight,
Trembling and singing as though one with the light.
And Charles, as he rode, felt the joy of their singing,
While over the clover the horses went stringing,
And up from Right Royal the message came winging,
"It is my day to-day, though the pace may be stinging,
Though the jumps be all danger and the going all clinging."
The white, square church-tower with its weather-cocks swinging,
Rose up on the right above grass and dark plough
Where the elm trees' black branches had bud on the bough.