On the left, as he leaped it, a flashing of brown
Kicking white on the grass, showed that Thankful was down;
Then a glance, right and left, showed that, barring all flukes,
It was Soyland’s, Sir Lopez’, or Peterkinooks’.
He passed the Red Ember, he came to the flank
Of Peterkinooks, whom he reached and then sank.
There were only two others, going level alone,
First the spotted cream jacket, then the blue, white and roan.
Up the street of green race-course they strained for the prize,
While the stands blurred with waving and the air shook with cries:
“Now, Sir Lopez!” “Come, Soyland!” “Now, Sir Lopez! Now, now!”
Then Charles judged his second, but he could not tell how.
But a glory of sureness leaped from horse into man,
And the man said, “Now, beauty,” and the horse said, “I can.”
And the long weary Royal made an effort the more,
Though his heart thumped like drum-beats as he went to the fore.
Neck and neck went Sir Lopez and Soyland together,
Soyland first, a short head, with his neck all in lather;
Both were ridden their hardest, both were doing their best,
Right Royal reached Soyland and came to his chest.
There Soyland’s man saw him with the heel of his eye,
A horse with an effort that could beat him or tie;
Then he glanced at Sir Lopez, and he bit through his lip,
And he drove in his spurs and he took up his whip.
There he lashed the game Soyland who had given his all,
And he gave three strides more, and then failed at the call,
And he dropped behind Royal like a leaf in a tide:
Then Sir Lopez and Royal ran on side by side.
There they looked at each other, and they rode, and were grim;
Charles thought, “That’s Sir Lopez. I shall never beat him.”
All the yells for Sir Lopez seemed to darken the air,
They were rushing past Emmy and the White Post was there.
He drew to Sir Lopez; but Sir Lopez drew clear;
Right Royal clung to him and crept to his ear.
Then the man on Sir Lopez judged the moment had come
For the last ounce of effort that would bring his horse home.
So he picked up his whip for three swift slashing blows,
And Sir Lopez drew clear, but Right Royal stuck close,
Then he gained, past his withers, past his neck to his head.
With Sir Lopez’ man lashing, Charles still, seeing red.