The Undertaker's Horse
Music arranged by
The eldest son bestrides him
and the pretty daughter rides him
and I often meet him mornings on the corse
and there kindles in my bozom
an emotion chill and grusome
as I canter past the undertaker's horse
Neither shy is he nor is restive
but hidiously suggestive trot
professtional and placid he affects
and the cadence of his hoofbeets
my mind is grim reproof beets-
Mend your pace, my friend, I'm coming-
who's the next?
A stud bred of ill omen
I've watched the strongest go-
Men of pith and might and muscle at your heels
Down the plantain bordered highway
-heaven send it never be my way-
in a laquered box of jet upon dark wheels.
Answer somber beast and dreary
Where is brown, the young and cheery
smith, the pride of all his friends and half the force
You were at that last dread stalk,
we must cover at a walk
Bring them back to me oh, undertaker's horse.
With your mane unhogged and flowing
and your curious way of going
and that business like black crimping of your tail-
even with beauty on your back, sir
pacing as a lady's hack, sir
no wonder when I see you I turn pale.
If maybe you wait your time, beast
till I write my last bad rhyme, beast
with the sunlight twixed the rhyming drop the glass
follow after with the others
where some dusty heathen smothers us
with marygolds in place of english grass.
Or, per chance in years to follow
I will watch your plumps sides hollow
See carn affects gone lame, become a corpse
See old age at last over power you
and the station pack devour you
I'll chuckle then, oh undertaker's horse.
But win silk jibe and jest I've
still the hideously suggestive
trot that hammers out the unrelenting text
And I hear it hard behind me
in whatever place I find me
Sure to catch you soon or later,
whose the next?