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 | Poems on Affairs of State |  |
Fab. XX. Of the Apple and the Horse-Turd.
An Apple falling from a Tree
Which near a River stood,
With Horse-Turd in his Company
Was sailing down the Flood:
When Turd, ambitious to discourse
A thing so much above it,
Would into Conversation force,
As down the River drove it.
Lord! Madam, what a pleasant Stream
Is this in which we ride?
Sister! How we two Apples swim?
The foul Sirrev'rence cry'd.
Which near a River stood,
With Horse-Turd in his Company
Was sailing down the Flood:
When Turd, ambitious to discourse
A thing so much above it,
Would into Conversation force,
As down the River drove it.
Lord! Madam, what a pleasant Stream
Is this in which we ride?
Sister! How we two Apples swim?
The foul Sirrev'rence cry'd.
A Thredbare Writer, who perchance
Has not one Farthing paid,
To carry on the War with France,
Towards the Royal Aid;
Crys, Damn this curs'd confounded Peace,
It Forty Millions cost,
And we could not procure our Ease
Till all our Wealth was lost.
Has not one Farthing paid,
To carry on the War with France,
Towards the Royal Aid;
86
It Forty Millions cost,
And we could not procure our Ease
Till all our Wealth was lost.
| Poems on Affairs of State | |