 | The Poetry of Robert Burns |  |
226
PEGASUS AT WANLOCKHEAD
I
With Pegasus upon a dayApollo, weary flying
(Through frosty hills the journey lay),
On foot the way was plying.
II
Poor slip-shod, giddy PegasusWas but a sorry walker;
To Vulcan then Apollo goes
To get a frosty caulker.
III
Obliging Vulcan fell to work,Threw by his coat and bonnet,
And did Sol's business in a crack—
Sol paid him in a sonnet.
IV
Ye Vulcan's sons of Wanlockhead,Pity my sad disaster!
My Pegasus is poorly shod—
I'll pay you like my master!
Ramage's, 3 o'clock
| The Poetry of Robert Burns | |