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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538455" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>As I wandered home</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">As I wandered home<br>By Hedworth Combe<br>I heard a lone horse whinney,<br>And saw on the hill<br>Standing statue-still<br>At the top of the old oak spinney<br>A rough-haired hack<br>With a girl on his back-<br>And 'Hounds!' I said- 'for a guinea!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The wind blew chill<br>Over Larchey Hill,<br>And it couldn't have blown much colder;<br>Her nose was blue,<br>And her pigtails two<br>Hung damply over her shoulder;<br>She might have been ten,<br>Or - guessing again -<br>She might have been twelve months older.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To a tight pink lip<br>She pressed her whip<br>By way of imposing quiet;<br>I bowed my head<br>To the word unsaid,<br>Accepting the lady's fiat,<br>And noted the while<br>Her Belvoir style<br>As she rated a hound for riot.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A lean form leapt<br>O'er the fence and crept<br>Through the ditch with his thief's heart quaking,<br>But the face of the maid<br>No hint betrayed<br>That she noticed the brambles shaking,<br>Till she saw him clear<br>Of her one wild fear-<br>The chance of his backward breaking.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then dainty and neat<br>She rose in her seat<br>That the better her eyes might follow<br>Where a shadow of brown<br>Over Larchley Down<br>Launched out like a driving swallow;<br>And she quickened his speed<br>Through bracken and weed<br>With a regular Pytchley holloa!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Raging they came<br>Like a torrent of flame-<br>There where nineteen couple and over,<br>And a huntsman grey<br>Who blew them away<br>With the note of a true hound-lover,<br>While his Whip sat back<br>On her rough old hack<br>And called to the last in covert.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then cramming down flat<br>Her quaint little hat,<br>And shaking the old horse together,<br>She was off like a bird,<br>And the last that I heard<br>Was a 'For'ard!' that died in the heather<br>As she took up her place<br>At the tail of the chase<br>Like a ten-season lord of the leather.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Henry+Ogilvie">William Henry Ogilvie</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=538455" data-title="As I wandered home de William Henry Ogilvie" data-description="As I wandered home
By Hedworth Combe
I heard a lone horse whinney,
And saw on the hill
Standing statue-still
At the top of the old oak spinney
A rough-haired hack
With a girl on his back-
And 'Hounds!' I said- 'for a guinea!'

The wind blew chill
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