Classic Poem

"Dick Turpin, bold Dick hie away,' was the cry
Of my pals, who were startled, you guess.
The pistols were levelled, the bullets whizzed by,
As I jumped on the back of Black Bess.

Three officers, mounted, led forward the chase,
Resolved in the capture to share;
But I smiled on their efforts, though swift was their pace,
As I urged on my bonny black mare.

Hark away, hark away! Still onward we press,
And I saw by the glimmers of morn,
Full many a mile on the back of Black Bess
That night I was gallantly borne.

High over, my Bet! Thy fatigue thou must bear.
Well cleared! Never falter for breath.
Hark forward, brave girl, my bonny black mare!
We are speeding for life or for death.

When the spires of York Minster now burst on my view,
And the chimes they were ringing a knell--
Halt, halt! my brave mare, they no longer pursue.
As she halted, she staggered, she fell.

Her breathings are over, all hushed to her grave,
My poor Black Bess, once my pride.
But her heart she had burst, her rider to save--
For Dick Turpin she lived and she died.