Old Poetry Poetry • Poets • Essays • Forums •

Racers

The winds from many a cloudy mane
Shake off the sweat of gathering rain
And whicker with delight;
No slope of pasture-lands they need,
Whereon to rest, or drink, or feed,
Their life the rapture of the speed,
The frenzy of the flight.

Leave a guest comment (subject to review)

    : Comment:

    Name: (required)
    Email: (required, hidden from spam)