Hath tho beauty of thy one

With legs as powerful as stone

Weighing as much as a ton

Once again on thy throne.

She is, they are, God's gift.

Made to help man rule the world, 

But used as a slave's gift.

Broken down to be hurled. 

Used as a game

That men give every dime

To tame.

But as of today, it is a past time. 

Every beast is a child's dream

To run, fly, and be free

To work together on each other's team

To get thy ribbion they plea.

This beast of power, beauty, and grace

Is no other than a horse's race.