The wrath which first I felt when thou brok'st down
Is past—it never will again return.
I came to take my last fond leave of thee,
For I shall ne'er run mare or horse again.
O silky mane, with which I used to play
At Hampton! O most perfect equine form,
And points the like of which no mare yet had
Till thou was't bred! O fetlocks, neater far
Than many a woman's ankles! O grand hocks
That faltered feebly on that fatal day!"