Arthur Conan Doyle

«Songs of the Road» (1911). 7. The Bay Horse

Squire wants the bay horse,
   For it is the best.
Squire holds the mortgage;
   Where's the interest?
Haven't got the interest,
   Can't raise a sou;
Shan't sell the bay horse,
   Whatever he may do.

Did you see the bay horse?
   Such a one to go!
He took a bit of ridin',
   When I showed him at the Show.
First prize the broad jump,
   First prize the high;
Gold medal, Class A,
   You'll see it by-and-by.

I bred the bay horse
   On the Withy Farm.
I broke the bay horse,
   He broke my arm.
Don't blame the bay horse,
   Blame the brittle bone,
I bred him and I've fed him,
   And he's all my very own.

Just watch the bay horse
   Chock full of sense!
Ain't he just beautiful,
   Risin' to a fence!
Just hear the bay horse
   Whinin' in his stall,
Purrin' like a pussy cat
   When he hears me call.

But if Squire's lawyer
   Serves me with his writ,
I'll take the bay horse
   To Marley gravel pit.
Over the quarry edge,
   I'll sit him tight,
If he wants the brown hide,
   He's welcome to the white!