The little horse 'mid winter's height, ah, what a gallant heart he bore! He was a little pony white, all behind and he before. He never saw the Spring arise to gild the dreary landscape o'er. He never saw the sunny skies, either behind or before. He was contented, evermore, drawing the lads of the neighbourhood through the rain's unceasing pour, all behind and he before. His little cart behind him went, chasing the jaunty tail he wore. It was then he was content, all behind and he before. But one day, beneath the winter's blight, one day when he had been so good, he died of a stroke of lightning white, all behind and he before. He is dead without seeing the Spring arise. Ah, what a gallant heart he bore! He is dead without seeing the sunny skies either behind or before. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 12 by EZRA POUND TO A YOUNG BEAUTY by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS EACH IN HIS OWN TONGUE by WILLIAM HERBERT CARRUTH THE WOOD OF FLOWERS by JAMES STEPHENS BARBARA FRIETCHIE [SEPTEMBER 13, 1862] by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |