Before which stalked, with steps quite bold,
Two high-fed steeds of beauteous mould—
The pride of Whitbread’s stud.
The splashing made on every side
The lane, which was not over wide,
Quite terrified the elf:
He saw the careless steeds come on,
But dar’d not stand, nor dar’d to run—
Lest he should splash himself.
At length, poor youth! he made a stop,