Dear Reader, let me tell you something

About my method of passing judgment.

I look at dogs and judge of them

By their appearance, that's right.

One of the lowest quality seizes its food,

Satiates itself and stops --

It has the attributes of anastute fox.

One of a medium quality seems to be

Looking at the sun to burn its eyes

Before it grows old to be put down --

The consciousness of dog's life.

One of the highest quality seems to have

Forgotten the one thing -- dog's poor Self.

But I judge still better of horses

Than I do of dogs to polish my method

Of passing judgment in the faultless way.

I find that one goes straight forward,

As if following a line; that another turns off,

So as to describe an arch; that a third

Describes a square as if following

The measure so called; and that a fourth

Describes a circle as exactly

As a compass would make it flawlessly.

These are all horses of a whole continent,

But they are not equal to a fine horse

Of the entire world whose qualities

Are complete: now it looks anxious,

Now to be losing the way,

Now to be forgetting itself. . .

Such a fine horse prances along

Or rushes on, spurning the dust

And not knowing where it is

In the boundless areas between

The heavens above and lower regions.