The Horse

Where, in this wide world,

Can man find nobility without pride?

Friendship without envy

Or beauty without vanity?

Here, where grace is laced with muscle

And strength by gentleness confines

He serves without servility

Has fought without enmity

There is nothing so powerful

Nothing less violent

There is nothing so quick

Nothing more patient

England’s past has been borne on his back

All our history is his industry

We are his heirs

He our inheritance

The horse

Sent in by Cpl Ange Polgreen, RAF Honington