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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=344183" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Tommy Corrigan</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">You talk of riders on the flat, of nerve and pluck and pace -- <br>Not one in fifty has the nerve to ride a steeplechase. <br>It's right enough, while horses pull and take their faces strong, <br>To rush a flier to the front and bring the field along; <br>Bur what about the last half-mile, with horses blown and beat -- <br>When every jump means all you know to keep him on his feet. <br>When any slip means sudden death -- with wife and child to keep -- <br>It needs some nerve to draw the whip and flog him at the leap -- <br>But Corrigan would ride them out, by danger undismayed, <br>He never flinched at fence or wall, he never was afraid; <br>With easy seat and nerve of steel, light hand and smiling face, <br>He held the rushing horses back, and made the sluggards race. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">He gave the shirkers extra heart, he steadied down the rash, <br>He rode great clumsy boring brutes, and chanced a fatal smash; <br>He got the rushing Wymlet home that never jumped at all -- <br>But clambered over every fence and clouted every wall. <br>You should have heard the cheers, my boys, that shook the members' stand <br>Whenever Tommy Corrigan weighed out to ride Lone Hand. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">They were, indeed, a glorious pair -- the great upstanding horse, <br>The gamest jockey on his back that ever faced a course. <br>Though weight was big and pace was hot and fences stiff and tall, <br>&quot;You follow Tommy Corrigan&quot; was passed to one and all. <br>And every man on Ballarat raised all he could command <br>To put on Tommy Corrigan when riding old Lone Hand. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But now we'll keep his memory green while horsemen come and go; <br>We may not see his like again where silks and satins glow. <br>We'll drink to him in silence, boys -- he's followed down the track <br>Where many a good man went before, but never one came back. <br>Amd, let us hope, in that far land where the shades of brave men reign, <br>The gallant Tommy Corrigan will ride Lone Hand again.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Andrew+Barton+Paterson">Andrew Barton Paterson</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=344183" data-title="Tommy Corrigan de Andrew Barton Paterson" data-description="You talk of riders on the flat, of nerve and pluck and pace -- 
Not one in fifty has the nerve to ride a steeplechase. 
It's right enough, while horses pull and take their faces strong, 
To rush a flier to the front and bring the field along; 
Bur..."></div>
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