domingo, 28 de dezembro de 2014

Hunting.

Hunting.

Hunting.


The sailor who rides on the ocean,
Delights when the stormy winds blow:
Wind and steam, what are they to horse motion?
Sea cheers to a land Tally-ho?
The canvas, the screw, and the paddle,
The stride of the thorough-bred hack,
When, fastened like glue to the saddle,
We gallop astern of the pack.
Tarporley Hunt Song, 1855.


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