But blown abroad by the pride within!
His mane a stormy river flowing,
And his eyes like embers glowing
In the darkness of the night,
And his pace as swift as light.
Look, around his straining throat
Grace and shifting beauty float!
Sinewy strength is in his reins,
And the red blood gallops through his veins."
How often do we hear it remarked of a neat blood-looking nag, "Yes, very pretty and blood-like, but there's nothing of him; only fit to carry a woman." No greater mistake can be made, for if we consider the matter in all its bearings, we shall see that the lady should be rather over than under mounted.