Over the hill and onto the green grass
Thundering hoofs and flying manes
Muscles rippling under shining coats
Hearts pounding, breathes sobbing

If only we had asked they would have flown
The dear Mearas we were fortunate to own
With noble heads, always held high
Stepping lightly below a blue sky

No saddle, nor bridle
Could have restrained such beasts
Nor love or kind handling
Only the Lord of the Mark and his descent

Were worthy of such a prize
Of such honor and dignity
Could only a few hold
The rulers of Edoras, whom were close to the throne