I
A Remonstrance (to Rosie)
I always admired you, t’was Love at first sight,
How smoothly you sailed to the front,
And took your own line in the very first flight
Right bang at the top of the Hunt.
You went a bit faster than others, of course,
And you liked to be given your head,
But I hate ‘em too slow, whether woman or horse,
And I do like ‘em both thoroughbred.
I never ill-used you, for rowel-less spurs
Yours dignity could not disturb,
And I’m certain unless my poor memory errs,
I never made use of the curb.
But yet, without giving me warning at all,
You stopped being friendly and kind,
And flouted and tricked me, and made me look small,
In the nastiest way you could find.
There were hundreds of people I knew within sight,
You paid no attention to that,
My breeches and boots were a masterpiece quite,
And I had on my very best hat.
You looked as demure and as a douce as a dove,
Your temper was warranted sweet,
‘It was all very well to dissemble your love,’
But why buck me off at the meet?
II
A Reply
I’m sorry you still find the subject so sore,
But really I had some excuse;
The saddle was cold, and ‘lawn’ meets are a bore,
And you were sitting rather too loose.
You’re not a bad sort, I don’t think, as boys go,
And I never intended to vex,
But I have my caprices at times, don’t you know,
Like all of the Feminine sex.
The plough was quite soft, so you couldn’t be hurt,
I knew it would be a surprise,
And you did look so comic, all covered with dirt,
And your hat battered over your eyes.
Just learn to sit back when it comes to the pinch
(You’ll find my advice pretty sound),
And don’t trust a horse or a woman one inch,
Unless you are sure of your ground.
Before the day’s business has rightly begun,
I must have my fling if I choose;
But tell me now, fairly, when hounds really run,
Did you ever once know me refuse?
I’ve carried you well, you must own, once or twice,
So I think I have made you amends;
Just find me a carrot, or something else nice,
Rub my nose, make it up, and be friends.
George U. Robins