I I'LL sing you a song, and a merry, merry song, Concerning our Yorkshire Jen; Who never yet ran with horse or mare, That ever she cared for a pin. II When first she came to Newmarket town The sportsmen all view'd her around; All the cry was, "Alas, poor wench, Thou never can run this ground!" III When they came to the starting-post, The Mare look'd very smart; And let them all say what they will, She never lost her start. IV When they got to the two-mile post, Poor Jenny was cast behind: She was cast behind, she was cast behind, All for to take her wind. V When they got to the three-mile post, @3The Mare look'd very pale@1— SHE LAID DOWN HER EARS ON HER BONNY NECK, AND BY THEM ALL DID SHE SAIL; VI "Come follow me, come follow me, All you that run so neat; And ere that you catch me again, I'll make you all to sweat." VII When she got to the winning-post, The people all gave a shout; And Jenny click'd up her lily-white foot, And jumped like any buck. VIII The Jockey said to her, "This race you have run, This race for me you have got; You could gallop it all over again, When the rest could hardly trot!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PALINGENESIS by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THYESTES, ACT 2: CHORUS by LUCIUS ANNAEUS SENECA IN THIS AGE OF HARD TRYING, NONCHALANCE IS GOOD AND by MARIANNE MOORE HYMN IX by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD A WINTER NIGHT by ROBERT BURNS LINES ON THE DEPARTURE OF EMIGRANTS FOR NEW SOUTH WALES by THOMAS CAMPBELL |