 | The Last Poems of Philip Freneau |  |
15
Epitaph Upon a Spanish Horse
Here rest the bones of ROYAL GIFT
Safe interr'd at Dead man's Lift;
Now no longer strong or swift.
Safe interr'd at Dead man's Lift;
Now no longer strong or swift.
As my pen is rather weak
May I, sirs, your pardon seek,
If the horse himself shall speak:
May I, sirs, your pardon seek,
If the horse himself shall speak:
“Favourite of our King of Spain,
Oft he held my tightening rein,
Briskly cantering o'er the plain.
Oft he held my tightening rein,
Briskly cantering o'er the plain.
“Round the Prado, at Madrid
Many a time the monarch rid
With strange fancies in his head,
Many a time the monarch rid
With strange fancies in his head,
“One of which I will disclose,
Safely now, I may suppose:—
Hear it then, my friends and foes.
Safely now, I may suppose:—
Hear it then, my friends and foes.
“Travelling on a plashy road
With my ever honored load
I threw my master in the mud.
With my ever honored load
I threw my master in the mud.
“This was more than once repeated
Till the king got overheated,
On my back no more he seated.
Till the king got overheated,
On my back no more he seated.
“Angry at my vicious way,
He sent me to America
To witness presidential sway.
He sent me to America
To witness presidential sway.
“He sent me here, without Petition,
T' escape the Holy Inquisition;
Such the purpose of my mission.
T' escape the Holy Inquisition;
Such the purpose of my mission.
“Weary of the Royal Plan,
Hither I came to find a man,
And die—a GOOD REPUBLICAN.”
Hither I came to find a man,
And die—a GOOD REPUBLICAN.”
| The Last Poems of Philip Freneau | |