Billy Lappin

A Poem by Frank Brown©Frank Brown 1940
(Killed when Passport fell at Randwick, 1940.)

A gloom spread over Randwick,
I will never forget that day
Hushed thousands heard the sad report
Bill Lappin had passed away.

Stricken by the hand of Fate,
Mourned by loved ones dear,
A young and brilliant jockey,
Deprived of a great career.

Not a cleaner living jockey
Ever stepped. inside a course.
And not a better rider
Ever sat astride a horse.

Only just a youngster,
But his sturdy little hands,
When they gripped the bridle rein,
Were just like iron bands.

Loved by women, young and old,
Too numerous to count,
Who always had their bob each way
On Billy Lappin's mount.

Just the week before, at Moorefield,
As he came around the bend,
I still can see his smiling face
When he landed three on end.

And then away to Armldale,
Where he caused the books regret,
When he won the cup for Poulson
That day on "Cigarette."

Another win on "Pennywise,"
As we watched him from the stand;
And then he took a "Passport"
Into an unknown land.

Now, along with other jockeys,
May his little soul find rest,
For his name is indelibly written
As one of Australia's best.


From Frank Brown's 1948 book "Engine 1174 and Other Verses"

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