The first place that I can well remember was a large pleasant meadow with a pond of clear water in it. Some shady trees leaned over it, and rushes and water-lilies grew at the deep end. Over the hedge on one side we looked into a plowed field, and on the other we looked over a gate at our master’s house, which stood by the roadside; at the top of the meadow was a grove of fir trees, and at the bottom a running brook overhung by a steep bank.
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As I run out of horse poetry to post I’ve began searching for more horse literature to share. In doing so I ran across a treasure trove including Black Beauty which was first published in 1877.
This realistic, bittersweet tale is written from the animal’s point of view, giving it a unique twist. Anna Sewell claims to have only translated the tale into English (from equine) for us humans to learn from.
This type of autobiography was the first of its kind, not only was it written from the horses perspective, but the horse was never given human traits.
