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She's the grandest of ladies
And still not that old,
She's just grey at the edges,
But years do take toll;
But she's just as good, boys,
As she used to be
Many long years ago,
You can take it from me.
She's been put through her paces
When the crowds cheered her on,
Been in lots of hard places
In that swift run to home;
She has lifted our hearts up
Like leaves in the wind,
Made us all cheer, and stand up,
And call out her name.
And her stride's got that rhythm
So dark and so bold,
It's like primitive thunder
Seven centuries rolled;
Lots of good riders,
Lots of good men,
Who have stood up beside her
And would stand up again.
