XLVIII.
THE DRAG AND THE WHEEL.
1.
Click! clack! with a whoop and a whack!
The way is white, and the woods are black.
Thro' glare and gloom, now in now out,
What are the dust and noise about?
In the cloud o' the dust, in the clear o' the day,
What is it comes from the hills this way,
Creaking, reeking, heavy and hot,
Downward, townward, What is it? What?
2.
The road is steep from the mountain-tops:
Zigzag, lower and lower, it drops,
Slanting, sidling, fantastically
Down to the inn by the brook in the valley;
Whence it runs straight as a road can run,
Half in the shadow and half in the sun.
3.
Rumbling, grumbling, lumbering slow,
With a hi-gee-up! and a hi-gee-wo!
In the white o' the dust, in the heat o' the day,
'Tis a loaded wagon that comes this way.
And its heavily-harness'd horses four
Pant and smoke as they stop at the door
Of the roadside inn, to rest them awhile;
For the team, since morn, hath been many a mile.
4.
While the grooms were giving the horses drink,
The wagoner loosen'd the ponderous link,
Lifted the glowing Drag, and again
Hung him up by his iron chain
Behind the wagon, 'twixt wheel and wheel.
5.
That Drag was shodden with stoutest steel;
But his rusty shoe was half worn away
By the flinty ruts which had day by day
Been rubbing him bare, as, clutching it still,
He carried his wagon-load safe down hill.
6.
So now, as he swung there high and dry,
“Ouf!” groan'd he, “what a drudge am I!
'Tis a pretty sort of a life I lead!
Bearing the burden and staying the speed
Of a wagon with ten good loads at least,
Of timber atop! each stupid beast
Tugging away the more for me,
And the stupid wheel, with its bandy knee
Dug into my ribs, still doing its best
To be turning round when it ought to rest!
And what reward have I had of it yet?
Do good to others, small thanks you get!
For, look at these useless Wheels here (nay,
Useless, said I? far worse are they!)
If they had their will they would soon upset
Wagon, and timber, and all! And yet
Tho' the wagon is saved by my wise prevention,
It is only they that receive attention.
Do their spokes fall out? they are reinstated.
Do their axles creak? they are lubricated,
Greased, and eased, and coax'd to be quiet.
Do their tires fall off? they get new ones by it,
And go braced with a bran-new iron band,
Brave as (bright arm'd by his lady's hand)
Some knight sallies forth to the tournament,
Whiles I, each bone of whose back is bent
In their service, wearing myself away,
Get never a thank-you night or day
For the care without which (woe is me!)
Soon would the wagon in pieces be.”
7.
One of the Wheels to the Drag replied:
“Moderate, prithee, thy boastful pride,
Thou who dost moderate other folk's speed,
Doing naught else in the world, indeed!
Times (I acknowledge it) now and then
Happen to us, as they happen to men,
When our virtues are, for a while, defects.
But 'tis so with the world's best intellects;
And those times are rare. I have heard men say
There be water-wagons, whose perilous way
Is over the sea. When it blows great gales,
Their wagoners then take in the sails,
And throw out the anchor; putting the drag on,
And stopping the wheels of the water-wagon.
But say, are the sails no use at sea?
Is the anchor the sole thing needed? We
Are as good by land as, by sea, the sails:
And, as good as the anchor is for the gales,
Is the Drag for the hill-sides—going down.
But the gales and the hills are exceptions, own!
To each his merit; but none need brag.
More often the Wheel is of use than the Drag,
As you'll see in a minute.”
8.
The beasts were fed:
The wagoner jump'd on the wagon, and said,
“All right!” and away with no fear of a fall,
Started the wagon, and horses and all,
At a brisk merry trot o'er the long low road
That wound thro' the valley, so smooth and broad.
The dust flew up, and the sparks flew out,
The wagoner smack'd his whip with a shout,
“Hu! hu!” and the wheels went round:
'Twas a pleasure to see them get over the ground.
9.
Their motion, mockingly, made the Drag
Like a pendulum this way and that way wag.
He seem'd, with a shrug of contempt, to say, “Prithee
Go along, silly world, and the devil go with thee!
Hustle me! justle me! flout me still!
My turn will come—at the turn of the hill.”
10.
He was right. His turn came round at last:
And pass'd away—when the hill was past.
