Poor Old Horse  1850's  traditional 

Lyrics courtesy of www.sailorsongs.com

When I was young and in my prime
And in my stable lay
They gave to me the very best corn...
And the choicest hay
Poor old horse
Poor old mare

My master used to ride me out
And tie me to the stile
And he was courting the miller's girl
While I could trot a mile
Poor old horse
Poor old mare

Now I am old and done for
And fit for nothing at all
I'm forced to eat the sour grass
That grows along the wall
Poor old horse
Poor old mare

Then lay my tottering legs so low
That have run very far
O'er hedges and o'er ditches
O'er turnpike gate and bar
Poor old horse
Poor old mare

My hide I'll give to the huntsman
My shoes I'll throw away
The dogs shall eat my rotten flesh
And that's how I'll decay
Poor old horse
Poor old mare   

Lyrics courtesy of www.sailorsongs.com