Every year, at the end of the Horse of the Year Show in England, the arena lights darken and a solitary horse enters. A hush falls over the crowd as a single spotlight illuminates the magnificent Horse. Over the loudspeakers the following is heard:
Where, in this wide world,
Can man find nobility without pride,
Friendship without envy,
Or beauty without vanity?
Here, where grace is laced with muscle,
And strength by gentleness confined.
He serves without servility.
He has fought without enmity.
There is nothing so powerful,
Nothing less violent.
There is nothing so quick,
Nothing more patient.
England's past has been borne on his back,
All our history is his industry.
We are his heirs,
He our inheritance.
The Horse.
