They thrust me down into the saddle;
They tied me strongly by the bridle:
The horrid brute began to shy,
To kick, to amble, and to sidle,
And then away they let him fly;
Away, away! my breath is gone;
Still gallop, gallop, gallop on,
Down, down the street, and up the Strand,
Over the woman’s apple-stand.
We pass the cabs, and here we are,