The War Horse 1992

She is most highly prized of all I own
And I love her fiercely
She stands there at the ready, saddle in place
Tethered in the bridle
Many a sore has healed under her blanket
Even in foal she has carried me into the fray
And friend
There is treasure within her--wealth beyond measure
Many a fine foal has she born me
They have leaped at her side as I leaped upon her back

She is thin because of the march and the distance
Her head hangs because she is exhausted
But watch, I will speak and her eye opens
Her ear turns toward me and she picks up her head
How I love her!  She is more lovely than the dawn!

Look, here an old scar upon her flank.
There, another on her breast.
She bears her many scars
Like the ornaments of a bride.  Is she not lovely?
She is lovely to my eye.

And these are the firing marks upon her legs
That identify her with my tent and tribe
You, friend, you shelter in my tent
You enjoy my hospitality and protection
Take your ease and eat your fill
This mare and I will see to your safety
I offer my blood for your sanctuary.

Would someone trade me all the diamonds of Africa
I would never yield her over.
Your diamonds are naught but sand
But the mare, her heart belongs to me
When the desert winds howl and the sands tear like razors
Even you, friend, will give place as we shelter her within
Let her lie down in peace in my tent
Let the children sleep among her legs
She is my lamb and my own staff protects her.

In due season, we will pasture well
And she will feed to the full.
I will undo her hobbles and she will graze where she will
Let her wander then, through the chamomile and tender herbs
I know when day is done she will find her way
Back to my tent.
Let her lie down in peace.
Let the children sleep among her legs
She is my lamb and my own staff protects her.

Friend, when she is tethered in the bridle, saddle in place,
She looks to strangers like a ragged puny thing
Her bones stick out and her head hangs
They consider her of no account
Little they understand of her power and her strength
Nothing they see of her heart and the will of her spirit
And glad I am, for if they saw
They would prepare twice over for the assault.

Friend, when she is pastured and feeding to the full
No stranger will ever lay eyes upon her
For her beauty fills out until my eyes run with tears
She shines as bright as the dawn
No stranger will see her,
For my jealousy kindles over her
And I guard her with a perfect hand.

Yet, there will come a day
When the enemy sees her in full beauty
Bright as the dawn
And meek as a lamb under my hand
The day of the finish
He will see his fault and rue
How did he consider her of little account?
The deep of her eye shall smite him with astonishment
And she will see the finish of war
Lo, the finish of war, for her account,
And never will she be ragged again.