Classic Poem

I.

I T was a young maiden went forth to ride,
And there was a wooer to pace by her side;
His horse was so little, and hers so high,
He thought his Angel was up in the sky.

II.

His love was great, tho' his wit was small;
He bade her ride easy — and that was all.
The very horses began to neigh, —
Because their betters had nought to say.

III.

They rode by elm, and they rode by oak,
They rode by a church-yard, and then he spoke: —
" My pretty maiden, if you 'll agree
You shall always ramble through life with me. "

IV.

The damsel answer'd him never a word,
But kick'd the gray mare, and away she spurr'd.
The wooer still follow'd behind the jade,
And enjoy'd — like a wooer — the dust she made.

V.

They rode thro' moss, and they rode thro' moor, —
The gallant behind and the lass before; —
At last they came to a miry place,
And there the sad wooer gave up the chase.

VI.

Quoth he, " If my nag were better to ride,
I 'd follow her over the world so wide.
Oh, it is not my love that begins to fail,
But I 've lost the last glimpse of the gray mare's tail! "