The Last Leap

LL is over! fleet career,    Dash of greyhound slipping thongs,  Flight of falcon, bound of deer,  Mad hoof-thunder in our rear,    Cold air rushing up our lungs,            Din of many tongues.    Once again, one struggle good,    One vain effort;—he must dwell  Near the shifted post, that stood  Where the splinters of the wood,            Lying in the torn tracks, tell    How he struck and fell.    Crest where cold drops beaded cling,    Small ear drooping, nostril full,  Glazing to a scarlet ring,          Flanks and haunches quivering,    Sinews stiffening, void and null,    Dumb eyes sorrowful.    Satin coat that seems to shine    Duller now, black braided tress          That a softer hand than mine  Far away was wont to twine,    That in meadows far from this    Softer lips might kiss.    All is over! this is death,            And I stand to watch thee die,  Brave old horse! with bated breath  Hardly drawn through tight-clenched teeth,    Lip indented deep, but eye    Only dull and dry.            Musing on the husk and chaff    Gathered where life’s tares are sown,  Thus I speak, and force a laugh,  That is half a sneer and half    An involuntary groan,            In a stifled tone—    ‘Rest, old friend! thy day, though rife    With its toil, hath ended soon;  We have had our share of strife,  Tumblers in the masque of life,            In the pantomime of noon    Clown and pantaloon.    ‘With a flash that ends thy pain,    Respite and oblivion blest  Come to greet thee.

I in vain          Fall:

I rise to fall again:    Thou hast fallen to thy rest—    And thy fall is best