Explore "How Salvator Won" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The gate was thrown open, I rode out alone, / More proud than a monarch who sits on a throne. / I am but a jockey, yet shout upon shout / Went up from the people who watched me ride out; / And the cheers that rang forth from that warm-hearted crowd, / Were as earnest as those to which monarch e'er bowed.
My heart thrilled with pleasure so keen it was pain / As I patted my Salvator's soft silken mane; / And a sweet shiver shot from his hide to my hand / As we passed by the multitude down to the stand.