Army Reserve; a worshipper of Bobs, <br />With whom he stripped the smock from Candahar; <br />Neat as his mount, that neatest among cobs; <br />Whenever pageants pass, or meetings are, <br />He moves conspicuous, vigilant, severe, <br />With his Light Cavalry hand and seat and look, <br />A living type of Order, in whose sphere <br />Is room for neither Hooligan nor Hook. <br />For in his shadow, wheresoe'er he ride, <br />Paces, all eye and hardihood and grip, <br />The dreaded Crusher, might in his every stride <br />And right materialized girt at his hip; <br />And they, that shake to see these twain go by, <br />Feel that the Tec, that plain-clothes Terror, is nigh.<br /><br />William Ernest Henley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/london-types-mounted-police/
