“Green Sleeve!” “Restitution!”
“Le Sarrazin!” “Pace!”
“It’s Mercury’s race!”
Then on they come lashing, and slashing, and dashing,
Their colours all flashing like lightning-gleams gashing
The darkness, where, clashing, the thunder is crashing!
With whipping and thrashing,
With crowding and smashing,
With pressing and stirring,
With lifting and spurring,