Gallops when the dawn is breaking,
Foam upon the breastplates flaking,
Upland turf to hoofbeats shaking,
Lanterns in the dim-lit stalls.
Golden hopes that come to guide us,
Splendid dreams that float beside us ;
Aintree calls!
Fences dark and water gleaming,
Colours down the straightway streaming
Glamour that the heart enthralls;
Roar of crowds on crowds unending.
Hues upon the high stands blending,
Whistle of the whips descending ;
Aintree calls!
Ghosts of men that here have ridden
Gather at the post unbidden,
Waiting till the old flag falls;
Hear the rattled guard-rails quiver
As they rush them, game as ever!
(Mist, O mist, on Mersey River!)
Aintree calls!
Danger beckons yet to daring,
And the colours wait for wearing,
While Fame proffers gifts for sharing
And Dame Fortune plans the falls.
Lo! the spirit of endeavour
Burns in England's heart for ever;
Aintree calls!
