we passed by the multitude down to the stand.
The great wave of cheering came billowing back
As the hoofs of brave Tenny ran swift down the track,
And he stood there beside us, all bone and all muscle,
Our noble opponent, well trained for the tussle
That waited us there on the smooth, shining course.
My Salvator, fair to the lovers of horse
As a beautiful woman is fair to man's sight--
Pure type of the thoroughbred, clean-limbed and bright--
Stood taking the plaudits as only his due
And nothing at all unexpected or new.

And then there before us as the bright flag is spread,
There's a roar from the grand stand, and Tenny's ahead;
At the sound of the voices that shouted, "A go!"
He sprang like an arrow shot straight from the bow.
I tighten the reins on Prince Charlie's great son;
He is off like a rocket, the race is begun.
Half-way down the furlong their heads are together,
Scarce room 'twixt their noses to wedge in a feather;
Past grand stand, and judges, in neck-to-neck strife,
Ah, Salvator, boy, 'tis the race of your life!
I press my knees closer, I coax him, I urge,
I feel him go out with a leap and a surge;
I see him creep on, inch by inch, stride by stride,
While backward, still backward, falls Tenny beside.
We are nearing the turn, the first quarter is passed--
'Twixt leader and chaser the daylight is cast;
The distance elongates; still Tenny sweeps on,
As graceful and free-limbed and swift as a fawn,
His awkwardness vanished, his muscles all strained--
A noble opponent well born and well trained.

I glanced o'er my shoulder; ha! Tenny! the cost
Of that one second's flagging will be--the race lost;
One second's yielding of courage and strength,
And the daylight between us has doubled its length.
The first mile is covered, the race is mine--no!
For the blue blood of Tenny responds to a blow;
He shoots through the air like a ball from a gun,
And the two lengths between us are shortened to one.
My heart is contracted, my throat feels a lump,
For Tenny's long neck is at Salvator's rump;
And now with new courage grown bolder and bolder,
I see him once more running shoulder to shoulder.
With knees, hands and body I press my grand steed;
I urge him, I coax him, I pray him to heed!
O Salvator! Salvator! List to my calls,
For the blow of my whip will hurt both if it falls.
There's a roar from the crowd like the ocean in storm,
As close to the saddle leaps Tenny's great form;
One mighty plunge, and with knee,