Poem by Lesbia Harford

The Melbourne Cup

I like the riders
Clad in rose and blue;
Their colours glitter
And their horses too.
Swift go the riders
On incarnate speed.
My thought can scarcely
Follow where they lead.
Delicate, strong, long
Lines of colour flow,
And all the people
Tremble as they go.

1. You, whom the grave cannot bind
2. I can't feel the sunshine
3. He had served eighty masters. They'd have said
4. I have golden shoes
5. I love to see

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