[The following ballad was written by Charles Kingsley while on his visit to the United States. It was the last thing that Mr. Kingsley wrote, and is not usually to be found in the published editions of his works.] "Are you ready for your steeple chase, Lorraine, Lorraine, Lorree? Barum, Barum, Barum, Barum, Barum, Barum, You're booked to ride your capping race today at You're booked to ride Vindictive, for all the world to see, To keep him straight and keep him first, and win the run for me. Barum, Barum, Barum, Barum, Barum, Barum, She clasped her new-born baby, poor Lorraine, Barum, Barum, Barum, Barum, Barum, Barum, 'I cannot ride Vindictive, as any man might see, And I will not ride Vindictive, with this baby on my knee; He's killed a boy, he's killed a man, and why must he kill me?' "Unless you ride Vindictive, Lorraine, Lorraine, Lorree. Unless you ride Vindictive, to-day at Coulterlee, And land him safe across the brook, and win the blank for me, It's you may keep your baby, for you'll get no help from me.' "That husbands could be cruel,' said Lorraine, Lorraine, Lorree, "That husbands could be cruel, I have known for sea sons three; But oh! to ride Vindictive while a baby cries for me, And be killed across a fence at last, for all the world to see!' She mastered young Vindictive. Oh! the gallant lass was she, And kept him straight and won the race as near as near could be; But he killed her at the brook against a pollard wil low tree, Oh! he killed her at the brook, the brute, for all the world to see, And no one but the baby cried for poor Lorraine. Lorree." -Charles Kingsley. |