Galloping Horses (After The Flower Show)

Come for the prizes All are allotted, Leaving the ranks of Cut flowers and potted, Leaving the marrows, Monstrous, incredible, Turnips and carrots, Vast but inedible, Leaving the honey (Bottle and section), Leaving the conquering Queen-wasp collection, Leaving the fruit-cakes (Underdone, mostly) lone in the show-tent vacant and ghostly. Come - on the common Where golden the gorse is Wait the Original Galloping Horses! Listen - the organ’s Just about starting! Who could resist That imperative blarting? Hark to the voice of it, Clamant, compelling, Blaring down even The ballyhoos’ yelling. Hamelin’s pipers Advertised playing Never could charm like that Resonant braying. Which horse will you have, The chestnut - the bay one? Pick where you like, but Mine is the grey one. What though his mane And tail have been slightly Tinned by equestrians Clutching them tightly? Still must his crinion Command admiration (That I believe, is the right designation). Look at his nostril, Redly distended, Mark too his action, Spirited, splendid. Shriek goes the organ, Lustily blowing; Get to your saddles; Now we are going! Up and then down Like the waves on the ocean - Where cou’d be found more Inspiring motion? Down and then up Like a gale in the Channel - Cook from the Manor Is whiter than flannel! Up again, down again, Quicker and quicker - “Stick to ‘im, ‘arold”” - look at the vicar! Over the elm-trees Climbs the moons crescent, Thin as a shaving, Pale opalescent; Flits the white owl by, Who as he passes Mingles his hoots With the squealing of lasses, While in the zenith The stars in their courses Wink at the brothers The Galloping Horses!