See they are clearing the sawdust course. For the girl in pink on the milk-white horse. Her spangles twinkle; his pale flanks shine. Every hair of his tail is fine. And bright as a comet's; his mane blows free. And she points a toe and bends a knee. And while his hoofbeats fall like rain. Over and over and over again. And nothing that moves on land or sea. Will seem so beautiful to me. As the girl in pink on the milk-white horse. Cantering over the sawdust course