The Last Leap
All 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 dwellNear the shifted post, that stoodWhere the splinters of the wood,Lying in the torn tracks, tellHow 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 stiff’ning, void and null,Dumb eyes sorrowful.
Satin coat that seems to shineDuller now, black braided tress,That a softer hand than mineFar away was wont to twine,That in meadows far from thisSofter lips might kiss.
All is over! this is death,And I stand to watch thee die,Brave old horse! with ‘bated breathHardly drawn through tight-clenched teeth,Lip indented deep, but eyeOnly dull and dry.
Musing on the husk and chaffGather’d where life’s tares are sown,Thus I speak, and force a laughThat is half a sneer and halfAn involuntary groan,In a stifled tone—
“Rest, old friend! thy day, though rifeWith its toil, hath ended soon;We have had our share of strife,Tumblers in the mask of life,In the pantomime of noonClown and pantaloon.
“With the flash that ends thy painRespite and oblivion blestCome to greet thee. I in vainFall: I rise to fall again:Thou hast fallen to thy rest—And thy fall is best!”