"Courser" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... led before me, were no longer shy, but would come up to my very feet without starting. The riders would leap them over my hand as I held it on the ground; and one of the emperor's huntsmen, upon a large courser, took my foot, shoe and all, which was indeed ...
— Gulliver's Travels - Into Several Remote Regions of the World • Jonathan Swift
... Parliament was held, at which the Earl of Hereford (afterwards Henry IV.) charged the Duke of Norfolk with treason. The charge was to have been decided by a trial of battle at Coventry. On the appointed morning, "Hereford came forth armed at all points, mounted on a white courser, barded with blue and green velvet, gorgeously embroidered with swans and antelopes of goldsmiths' work. The Duke of Norfolk rode a horse barded with crimson velvet, embroidered with lines ...
— Rides on Railways • Samuel Sidney
... thundering comes on blackest steed,[65] 180 With slackened bit and hoof of speed? Beneath the clattering iron's sound The caverned Echoes wake around In lash for lash, and bound for bound: The foam that streaks the courser's side Seems gathered from the Ocean-tide: Though weary waves are sunk to rest, There's none within his rider's breast; And though to-morrow's tempest lower, 'Tis calmer than thy heart, young Giaour![66] 190 I know thee not, I loathe ...
— The Works Of Lord Byron, Vol. 3 (of 7) • Lord Byron
... on the courser sprung, And her white arms round William flung, Like to a lily wreath. In swiftest gallop off they go, The stones and sparks around them throw, And pant the ...
— Translations of German Poetry in American Magazines 1741-1810 • Edward Ziegler Davis
... services and part of the horse of a lean Ravennese, a Captain of Lances—two yards of sinew and brown leather—who told her that his name was Mosca, and his heart bleeding at her feet. Olimpia smiled beautifully upon him, but was careful; took a share of the courser, but gave in return nothing more than a hand on its master's belt. He wanted much more, and showed it. Olimpia, far from coy, hinted an exchange. She needed her bearings; did this apparent hero know Ferrara? The Mosca snorted, threw back his head at the word. Ferrara? cried ...
— Little Novels of Italy • Maurice Henry Hewlett
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