"Unhappy coursers of immortal strain! Exempt from age, and deathless now in vain! Did we your race on mortal man bestow, Only, alas! to share in mortal woe? For ah! what is there, of inferior birth, That breathes or creeps upon the dust of earth; What wretched creature of what wretched kind, Than man more weak, calamitous and blind? A miserable race! But cease to mourn! For not by you shall Priam's son be borne High on the splendid car; one glorious prize He rashly boasts; the rest our will denies. Ourself will swiftness to your nerves impart, Ourself with rising spirits swell your heart. Automedon your rapid flight shall bear Safe to the navy through the storm of war...." He said; and, breathing in th' immortal horse Excessive spirit, urged them to the course; From their high manes they shake the dust, and bear The kindling chariot through the parted war. Is not that a prettier notion of horses than you will get from your betting English chivalry on the Derby day? [33] We will have, please heaven, some riding, not as jockeys ride, and some sailing, not as pots and kettles sail, once more on English land and sea; and out of both, kindled yet again, the chivalry of heart of the Knight of Athens, and Eques of Rome, and Ritter of Germany, and Chevalier of France, and Cavalier of England--chivalry gentle always and lowly, among those who deserved their name of knight; showing mercy to whom mercy was due, and honour to whom honour.