255
                    BALLAD OF EAST AND WEST - 3                              
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The dun he leaned against the bit and slugged his head above,                
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But the red mare played with the snaffle-bars, as a maiden plays with        
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   a glove.                                                                  
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There was rock to the left, and rock to the right, and low lean thorn        
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   between,                                                                  
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And thrice he heard a breech-bolt snick tho' never a man was seen.           
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They have ridden the low moon out of the sky, their hoofs drum up the dawn,  
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The dun he went like a wounded bull, but the mare like a new-roused fawn.    
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The dun he felt at a water-course - in a woeful heap felt he,                
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And Kamal has turned the red mare back, and pulled the rider free.           
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He has knocked the pistol out of his hand - small room was there to strive,  
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" 'Twas only by favour of mine," quoth he,"ye rode so long alive:            
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There was not a rock for twenty mile, there was not a clump of tree,         
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But covered a man of my own men with his rifle cocked on his knee.           
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If I had raised my bridle-hand, as I have held it low,                       
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The little jackals that flee so fast were feasting all in a row.             
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If I had bowed my head on my breast, as I have held it high,                 
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The kite that whistles above us now were gorged till she could not fly."     
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