The CALL to the
RACES
At New-Market.
To the Tune of To Horse brave Boys.
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TO Horse, brave Boys, to New-market to Horse,
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you'll loose the Match by longer delaying,
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The Gelding just now was led over the Coast,
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I think the Devils in you for staying;
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Run and endeavour to bubble the Sporters,
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Betts may be recover'd lost at the Groom-Porters,
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follow, follow, follow, lead down by the Ditch,
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then take the Odds, and then you'll be rich,
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For I will have Brown Bay if Blew Bonnet Ride,
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I'll hold a Thousand pound on his side Sir,
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Dragon could scowre it, but Dragon is old,
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He cannot endure it, he cannot he will not
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now run it as lately he could,
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Age, age hath hinder'd his speed Sir,
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Now, now, now see they come on,
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see, see, the Horse leads the way,
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Full three lengths before at the turn of the Land,
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Five Hundred pound upon the Brown Bay,
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But a Pox of the Devil I fear we have lost,
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The Dog the Blew Bonnet has run it,
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(a Murrain light on it)
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the wrong side the Post,
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Ods Bobs was ever such Fortune.
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Make hast, make hast, to New-market away,
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you idly leave your sport by delaying,
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The Race will be run e'er the heat of the day,
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we shall loose all our Betts by our staying;
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Run, Run, and freely your Guinea's now venter
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Upon the Brisk Brown Bay, whene'er she do's enter
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Follow, follow, follow on this side the Ditch,
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And take most Odds if you will be rich,
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As for me I'll have Sorrel if Blew Bonnet ride,
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And lay you fifty pound on his side Sir,
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Sorrel runs swiftest since Dragons grown Old,
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You'll find by and by that he cannot endure it,
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nor run it as lately he could;
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Years, years do's hinder his speed, Sir,
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Now, now, now see they come on,
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see Sorrel, still leads the way,
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A full Furlong before at the turn of the Land,
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Five Hundred pound 'tis that gets the day:
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But fie on that Jockey, I fear I have lost,
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With ease he had won it, had won it, if he had but run it,
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On this side the Post,
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No Man had ever such fortune.
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To Horse, we must not of Fortune complain,
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nor loose our time in Jockeys dispraising,
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The Geldings are galloping over the plain,
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while we stand idly, prating and gazing,
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Run and attempt to retrieve all our losses,
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And never stand railing at fortune and crosses,
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Follow, follow, follow, I'll lead on this side,
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And see if I can once be a guide,
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'Tis the Brown Bay I fancy she trouls it apace,
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I'll hold an hundred pound on the Race Sir,
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Dragon do's scowre it, but Brown Bay's before,
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And holds it, and holds it and wins it, and wins it,
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He runs it, so merrily o'er,
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I'll hold you now five hundred pound more:
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But now we're undone, and our Guineas are lost,
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The Rogue the Blew Bonnet has run it,
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(a Vengeance light on it)
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the wrong side the Post,
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I never had such ill Fortune.
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