John Masefield

“ Charles felt his horse see it and stir at the sight.
Again his heart lifted to the dream of the night;
Once again in his heart's blood the horse seemed to say,
"I'll die or I'll do it. It's my day to-day."
He saw the grey water in shade from its fence,
The rows of white faces all staring intense;
All the heads straining forward, all the shoulders packt dense.
Beyond, he saw Thankful, the riderless brown,
Snatching grass, dodging capture, with reins hanging down. ”

“ And they rushed for the Water where a man's blood might curdle.
Charles entered the race-course and prayed in his mind
That love for the moment might make Emmy blind,
Not see him come past half a distance behind;
For an instant he thought, "I must shove on ahead,
For to pass her like this, Lord, I'd rather be dead."
Then, in crossing the hurdle the Stand arose plain,
All the flags, horns and cheers beat like blows on his brain,
And he thought, "Time to race when I come here again,
If I once lose my head, I'll be lost past appeal."
All the crowd flickered past like a film on a reel. ”

“ And power of stride moved all beholders,
Moved non-bettors to try to bet
On that favourite horse not beaten yet.
With glory of power and speed he strode
To a sea of cheering that moved and flowed
And followed and heaped and burst like storm
From the joy of men in the perfect form;
Cheers followed his path both sides the course.
Charles Cothill sighed when he saw that horse.
The cheering died, then a burst of clapping
Met Soyland's coming all bright from strapping,
A big dark brown who was booted thick
Lest one of the jumps should make him click. ”

“ Two fences with toppings were cleared without hitch,
Then they ran for Lost Lady's, a fence and dry ditch.
Here Monkery's rider, on seeing a chance,
Shot out beyond Soyland to lead the advance.
Then he steadied and summed up his field with a glance.
All crossed the Lost Lady's, that dry ditch of fear,
Then a roar broke about them, the race-course was near.
Right and left were the swing-boats and merry-go-rounds,
Yellow varnish that wavered, machines making sounds,
Rifles cracking like cork-pops, fifes whining with steam,
"All hot," from a pieman; all blurred as in dream. ”

“ Out of all the jumps men haunt it most,
And there, with the crowd, and the undulled nerves,
The old horse balks and the young horse swerves,
And the good horse falls with the bad on top
And beautiful boldness comes to stop.
Charles saw the rush of the leading black,
And the forehands lift and the men sway back;
He steadied his horse, then with crash and crying
The top of the Turk's Grave Fence went flying. ”

“ With a flash of horse wisdom as she went on the wing
Not to tread on man's body, that marvellous thing.
As in mill-streams in summer the dark water drifts
Petals mown in the hayfield skimmed over by swifts,
Petals blue from the speedwell or sweet from the lime,
And the fish rise to test them, as they float, for a time,
Yet they all loiter sluicewards and are whirled, and then drowned,
So the race swept the horses till they glimmered the ground.
Charles looked at those horses, and speedily guesst
That the roan horse, Red Ember, was one of the best ”

“ He passed the Red Ember, he came to the flank
Of Peterkinooks, whom he reached and then sank.
There were only two others, going level alone,
First the spotted cream jacket, then the blue, white and roan.
Up the street of green race-course they strained for the prize,
While the stands blurred with waving and the air shook with cries:
"Now, Sir Lopez!" "Come, Soyland!" "Now, Sir Lopez! Now, now!"
Then Charles judged his second, but he could not tell how.
But a glory of sureness leaped from horse into man,
And the man said, "Now, beauty," and the horse said, "I can." ”

“ If we grow like the grasses, we fall like the flower,
And I know, I touch Death when I come to my Power."
Now over the course flew invisible birds,
All the Wants of the Watchers, all the thoughts and winged words,
Swift as floatings of fire from a bonfire's crest
When they burn leaves on Kimble and the fire streams west,
Bright an instant, then dying, but renewed and renewed,
So the thoughts chased the racers like hounds that pursued,
Bringing cheer to their darlings, bringing curse to their foes,
Searching into men's spirits till their Powers arose. ”

“ For the prize was bright Emmy; his blood beat and beat
As her beauty made music in that thunder of feet.
The wind was whirled past him, it hummed in his ears,
Right Royal's excitement had banished his fears,
For his leap was like singing, his stride was like cheers,
All his blood was in glory, all his soul was blown bare,
They were one, blood and purpose, they strode through the air.
"What is life if I lose her, what is death if I win?
At the end of this living the new lives begin.
Whatever life may be, whatever death is,
I am spirit eternal, I am this, I am this!" ”

“ Four feet of gorse fence, then a fifteen foot ditch.
And the fifteen foot ditch glittered bright to the brim
With the brook that ran through it where the grayling did swim;
In the shallows it sparkled, in the deeps it was dim,
When the race was first run it had nearly drowned Jim,
And now the bright irons of twenty-four horses
Were to flicker its ripples with knockings of gorses.
From far in the rear Charles could watch them take hold
Of their horses and push them across the light mould ”

“ He spoke to Right Royal and made up his mind.
He judged the lengths lost and the chance that remained,
And he followed his field, and he gained, and he gained.
He watched them, those horses, so splendid, so swift,
Whirled down the green roadway like leaves in the lift:
Now he measured their mettle, and said with a moan,
"They can beat me, Lord help me, though they give me a stone.
Red Ember's a wonder, and Soyland's the same,
And Gavotte there's a beauty, and she goes like a flame;
But Peterkinooks, that I used to despise,
Is the horse that must win if his looks are not lies." ”

“ When his soul shakes the world-soul, and can even change Fate,
So you and I, Royal, before we give in
Will spend blood and soul in our effort to win,
And if all be proved vain when our effort is sped,
May the hoofs of our conquerors trample us dead."
Then the soul of Right Royal thrilled up through each hand,
"We are one, for this gallop; we both understand.
If my lungs give me breathing, if my loins stand the strain,
You may lash me to strips and it shan't be in vain.
For to-day, in this hour, my Power will come
From my Past to my Present (and a Spirit gives some) . ”

“ If I thought our love should have come to wreck,
I'd pull Right Royal and break my neck,
And Monkery's shoe might kick my brains out
That my own heart's blood might wash my stains out.
But even if Emmy, my sweet, forgive,
I'm a ruined man, so I need not live,
For I've backed my horse with my all, by Heaven,
To be first in a field of thirty-seven,
And good as he is, the dream's a lie. ”

“ Now your horse is a slug and a sulker too,
Your way with the horse I leave to you;
But, sir, you watch for these joker's tricks
And watch that devil on number six;
There's nothing he likes like playing it low,
What a horse mayn't like or a man mayn't know,
And what they love when they race a toff
Is to flurry his horse at taking off.
The ways of the crook are hard to learn.
Now watch that fence at the outer turn ”

“ How their ears all cocked forward, how the drumming hoofs rolled!
Kubbadar, far ahead, flew across like a bird,
Then Soyland, bad second, with Muscatel third.
Then Sir Lopez, and Path Finder, striding alone,
Then the good horse, Red Ember, the flea-bitten roan.
Then the little Gavotte bearing less than ten stone.
Then a crowd of all colours with Peterkinooks
Going strong as a whale goes, head up and out flukes.
And then as Charles watched, as the shoulders went back,
The riderless Thankful swerved left off the track,
Crossing just to the front of the Cimmeroon black. ”

“ Charles cast a glance back, but he could not divine
Why the man on Path Finder should make him a sign,
Nor why Hadrian's rider should shout, and then point,
With his head nodded forward and a jerked elbow joint.
But he looked as he pointed, both forward and down,
And he saw that Right Royal was smeared like a clown,
Smeared red and bespattered with flecks of bright blood,
From a blood-vessel burst, as he well understood.
And just as he saw it, Right Royal went strange
As one whom Death's finger has touched to a change ”

“ Lose by an inch, but lose, and bring the wreck
A day's march nearer. Now begins again
The agony of waiting for the pain.
The agony of watching ruin come
Out of man's dreams to overwhelm a home.
Go now, my dear. Before the race is due,
We'll meet again, and then I'll speak with you.
In a race-course box behind the Stand
Right Royal shone from a strapper's hand.
A big dark bay with a restless tread,
Fetlock deep in a wheat-straw bed;
A noble horse of a nervy blood,
By O Mon Roi out of Rectitude
Something quick in his eye and ear
Gave a hint that he might be queer. ”

“ With the stride of a stalwart and the blood of a lover,
He landed on stubble now pushing with clover.
And just as he landed, the March sun shone bright
And the blue sky showed flamelike and the dun clouds turned white;
The little larks panted aloft their delight,
Trembling and singing as though one with the light.
And Charles, as he rode, felt the joy of their singing,
While over the clover the horses went stringing,
And up from Right Royal the message came winging,
"It is my day to-day, though the pace may be stinging,
Though the jumps be all danger and the going all clinging." ”

“ Right Royal kindled and cried aloud.
There was the course, stand, rail and pen,
Peopled with seventy thousand men;
Seventy thousand faces staring,
Carriages parked, a brass band blaring:
Over the stand the flags in billows
Bent their poles like the wands of willows.
All men there seemed trying to bawl,
Yet a few great voices topped them all:
"I back the field! I back the field!"
Right Royal trembled with pride and squealed.
Charles Cothill smiled with relief to find
This roaring crowd to his horse's mind. ”

“ The taker went West, whence he sent Charles's bride
Silver bit-cups and beadwork on antelope hide.
Charles married his lady, but he rode no more races;
He lives on the Downland on the blown grassy places,
Where he and Right Royal can canter for hours
On the flock bitten turf full of tiny blue flowers.
There the Roman pitcht camp, there the Saxon kept sheep,
There he lives out this Living that no man can keep,
That is manful but a moment before it must pass,
Like the stars sweeping westward, like the wind on the grass. ”

“ Charles Cothill and the golden lady, Em.
Beautiful England's hands had fashioned them.
He was from Sleins, that manor up the Lithe;
Riding the Downs had made his body blithe;
Stalwart he was, and springy, hardened, swift,
Able for perfect speed with perfect thrift,
Man to the core yet moving like a lad.
Dark honest eyes with merry gaze he had,
A fine firm mouth, and wind-tan on his skin.
He was to ride and ready to begin.
He was to ride Right Royal, his own horse,
In the English Chaser's Cup on Compton Course. ”

“ As Charles got over he splashed the dirt
Of the poor Turk's grave on two men hurt.
Right Royal landed. With cheers and laughter
Some horses passed him and some came after;
A fine brown horse strode up beside him,
It was Thankful running with none to ride him;
Thankful's rider, dizzy and sick,
Lay in the mud by Bitter Dick.
In front, was the curving street of Course,
Barred black by the leaps unsmashed by horse. ”

“ So they cleared the green gorse-bush by bursting it through,
There was no time for thinking, there was scarce time to do.
Charles gritted his spirit as he charged through the gorse:
"You must just grin and suffer: sit still on your horse."
There in front was a hurdle and the Distance Post white,
And the long, green, broad Straight washed with wind and blown bright;
Now the roaring had screaming, bringing names to their ears:
"Come, Soyland!" "Sir Lopez!" Then catcalls; then cheers.
"Sir Lopez! Sir Lopez!" ”

“ As a snow in Wisconsin when the darkness comes down,
Running white on the prairie, making all the air brown,
Blinding men with the hurry of its millions of feet,
So the Wants pelted on them, so they blinded and beat.
And like spirits calm shining upon horses of flame,
Came the Friends of those riders to shield them from shame,
White as fire white-burning, rushing each by his friend,
Singing songs of the glory of the world without end ”

“ Counter Vair's man shot out with his horse by the head,
Like a partridge put up from the stubble he sped,
He dropped Kubbadar and he flew by Bed Ember
Up to Monkery's girth like a leaf in November.
Then Stormalong followed, and went to the front,
And just as the find puts a flame to a hunt,
So the rush of those horses put flame to the race.
Charles saw them all shaken to quickening pace.
And Monkery moved, not to let them go by,
And the steadiest rider made ready to fly ”

“ Shall I come to those horses and scupper their men?
Will they never come back? Shall I never get up?"
So he drank bitter gall from a very cold cup.
But he nursed his horse gently and prayed for the best,
And he caught Cimmeroon, who was sadly distrest,
And he passed Cimmeroon, with the thought that the black
Was as nearly dead beat as the man on his back.
Then he gained on his field who were galled by the Churn,
The plough searched them out as they came to the Turn.
But Gavotte, black and coral, went strong as a spate
Charles thought "She's a flier and she carries no weight." ”

“ Of passionate blood compelled to wait.
Then the starter shouted to Charles, "Good heaven,
This isn't a circus, you on Seven."
For Royal squirmed like a box of tricks
And Coranto's rider, the number Six,
Cursed at Charles for a green young fool
Who ought to be at a riding school.
After a minute of swerves and shoving,
A line like a half-moon started moving,
Then Rocket and Soyland leaped to stride,
To be pulled up short and wheeled to side.
Then the trickier riders started thrusting,
Judging the starter's mind too trusting ”

“ And the long weary Royal made an effort the more,
Though his heart thumped like drum-beats as he went to the fore.
Neck and neck went Sir Lopez and Soyland together,
Soyland first, a short head, with his neck all in lather ”

“ Now they closed on their leaders, and the running increased,
They rushed down the arc curving round to the east;
All the air rang with roaring, all the peopled loud stands
Roared aloud from tense faces, shook with hats and waved hands. ”