A large and liquid eye … the swirl of dust around pounding hooves … these, then, are the images that move us.
And indeed, a horse who bears himself proudly is a thing of such beauty and astonishment that he attracts the eyes of all beholders. No one will tire of looking at him as long as he will display himself in his splendor.
You took me to adventure and to love. We two have shared great joy and great sorrow. And now I stand at the gate of the paddock watching you run in an ecstasy of freedom, knowing you will return to stand quietly, loyally, beside me.
Slippery-smooth rhythmic motion, absolute single-minded purpose, motion for the pleasure of motion itself. It was terrible in its beauty, the flight of the horse.
Through the days of love and celebration and joy, and through the dark days of mourning, the faithful horse has been with us always.
Wherever man has left his footprints in the long ascent from barbarism to civilization, we find the hoofprint of a horse beside it.