Patricia Wallace Jones
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Cynthia on Horseback Fair Cynthia mounted on her sprightly pad,
Which in white robe with silver fringe was clad,
And swift as wind his graceful steps did move,
As with his beauteous guide he’d been in love.
Though fierce, yet humble still to her command,
Obeying ev’ry touch of her fair hand;
Her golden bit his foaming mouth did check,
It spread his crest, and rais’d his bending neck.
She was the rose upon this hill of snow,
Her sparkling beauty made the glorious show;
Whence secret flames men in their bosoms took:
The Graces and the Cupids her surround,
Attending her, while cruel she does wound,
With switch her horse, and hearts with ev’ry look.
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