It all the symptoms shows of going fast.
They're off! they're off! oh, what a slapping pace!
Here's the perfection of the human race.
That rider will be thrown, 'tis very plain,
The only chance now left him is the mane:
The race is over, and the sport is up;
We'll leave them to enjoy their stakes and cup.
Now for the wine—the hamper let's unpack,
The glasses can be ready in a crack.
Oh dear! look here! this is a sad to-do,