And even the baby has learnt to beware
The too playful bite of my little brown mare.
She prances like mad and she jumps like a flea,
And her waltz to a brass band is something to see:
No circus had ever a horse, I declare,
That could go through the hoops like my little brown mare.
I mount her but seldom—in fact, to be plain,
Like the Frenchman, when hunting I "do not remain:"
Since I've only one neck it would hardly be fair
To risk it in riding my little brown mare!