The old brown horse looks over the fence ina weary sort of way;
He seems to be saying to all who pass:
'Well , folks, I've had my day −
I'm simply watching the world go by,
And nobody seems to mind,
As they're dashing past in their motor-cars,
A horse who is lame and half-blind.'

The old brown horse has has a shaggy coat,
But once he was young and trim,
And he used to trot through the woods and lanes
With the man who was fond of him.
But his master rides in a motor-car,
And it makes him feel quite sad
When he thinks of the days that used to be,
And of all the times they had.

Sometimes a friendly soul will stop
Near the fence, where the tried old head
Rests wearily on the topmost bar,
And a friendly word is said.
Then the old brown horse gives a little sigh
As he feels the kindly touch.

Of a hand on his mane or his shaggy coat,
And he doesn't mind so much.

So if you pass by thee field one day,
Just stop for a word or two
With the old brown horse who was once as young
And ass full off life as you.
He'll love the touch of your soft young hand,
And I know he'll seem to say
'Oh, thank you, friend, for the kindly thought 
For a horse who has had his day.

− W. F. Holmes