FollowupID: 511423 Submitted:
Monday, Jul 02, 2007 at 08:52
Member - vivien C (VIC) posted:
Because I've grown up with horse racing and riding I have a love of Banjo Paterson and Adam Lindsay Gordon's horse racing poems
Banjo Paterson's- Pardon The Son of Reprieve is my favourite - its a very long poem but it ends like this...
He won it, and ran it much faster
Than even the first I believe
Oh, he was the daddy, the master
Was Pardon, the son of Reprieve.
He showed 'em the method of travel
The boy sat as still as a stone
They never could see him for gravel
He came in hard held and alone
"But he's old and his eyes are grown hollow;
like me, with my thatch of the snow;
When he dies, then I hope I may follow,
And go where the racehorses go.
I don't want no harping nor singing-
Such things with my style don't agree
Where the hoofs of the horses are ringing
There's music sufficient for me.
And surely the thoroughbred horses
Will rise up again and begin
Fresh races on far-away courses
And p'raps they might let me slip in
It would look rather well the race card on
'mongst Cherubs and Seraphs and things
'Angel Harrison's black gelding Pardon,
Blue halo, white body and wings
And if they have racing hereafter
And who is to say they will not?
When the cheers and the shouting and laughter
Proclaim that the battle grows hot
As they come down the racecourse a steering
He'll rush to the front I believe
And you'll hear the great multitude cheering
For Pardon the son of Reprieve
Viv
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| I may be justifying my pockets of chaos, but I will always choose people over perfection and the heart over task and tidy.
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