Strong wind lifts up my banker's cloak
1
Much like a schoolgirl's skirt;
My neck-tie doesn't budge because
It's clipp'd tight to my shirt;
I'm pounding down the paving stones
5
Let the whips sound high alert!
The heels around my hooves
9
Are clearly healthily well-worn;
My legs are long, coat's clean,
My mane's well-trimm'd, my blood's well-born;
Pulling heavy up the trail
13
Won't lay out 'til muscles torn.
Early I am rolling hay
17
Or chewing oats and pills;
The lunch I haul back to my stall
With dinner I may drink a draught
21
If mirth our master wills;
Health to you! no cargo spills.