A Fleeting Wonder

See where he rides, all hot and fast-

High on his horse that kicks

Lightning and thunder out of wind,

While fools applaud his tricks.

A year or two, and there he lies,

A bleeding thing, and thrown;

Down in the dust he dribbles blood,

Forgotten and unknown.

Whoa! Steady now, my little horse,

A gentle canter past:

Though faintly cheered, there's nothing gained

By riding wild and fast.