 | Poetic trifles |  |
16
Poor Donkey's Epitaph.
Down in a ditch poor Donkey lies,
Who jogg'd with many a load;
And till the day death clos'd his eyes,
Brows'd up and down this road.
Who jogg'd with many a load;
And till the day death clos'd his eyes,
Brows'd up and down this road.
Each market-day he jogg'd along
Beneath his master's load,
And snor'd out many a donkey's song
To friends upon the road.
Beneath his master's load,
And snor'd out many a donkey's song
To friends upon the road.
Poor Donkey! trav'llers passing by,
Thy cold remains shall view;
And 'twould be well if all who die
To duty were as true.
Thy cold remains shall view;
And 'twould be well if all who die
To duty were as true.
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