The Poetical Works of the Ingenious and Learned William Meston ... The Sixth edition |
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 | The Poetical Works of the Ingenious and Learned William Meston |  |
He made the mare great burdens carry,
And troopers o'er the water ferry;
With riding up and down opprest her,
In serving a dull thing her master,
From whence she never got a bait,
Tho' she toil'd for him ear and late.
His neighbours he allow'd to dock her,
Then in a muck-cart he did yoke her,
And there she suffer'd meikle harm
By drawing dung to his poor farm.
And troopers o'er the water ferry;
With riding up and down opprest her,
In serving a dull thing her master,
From whence she never got a bait,
Tho' she toil'd for him ear and late.
His neighbours he allow'd to dock her,
Then in a muck-cart he did yoke her,
And there she suffer'd meikle harm
By drawing dung to his poor farm.
A gentleman, who ne'er had wrong'd him,
Nor meddled with what did belong t'him,
From whose rich meadows, every year,
Much corn and hay came to the mare,
Was cultivating his own ground,
And thinking all was safe and sound;
While he's intent upon his tillage,
And carefully repair'd his village,
And fenc'd his parks, like a good shifty
Landlord, that's honest, wise and thrifty,
Up comes Don Quixotte on his mare,
Gives him a box behind the ear;
And you must know this trick he play'd,
At the same time when he had said,
Dear Sir, I am your very sure,
And faithful friend, de tout mon cœur,
Which proves, let him say what he can,
He did not like an honest man;
One day, perhaps, he will repent it,
For soon or late 'twill be resented.
Mean time the mare gain'd nothing by it,
She quickly found a change of diet,
As having neither corn nor straw,
Nor hay, to fill his hungry maw.
Nor meddled with what did belong t'him,
From whose rich meadows, every year,
Much corn and hay came to the mare,
Was cultivating his own ground,
And thinking all was safe and sound;
While he's intent upon his tillage,
And carefully repair'd his village,
And fenc'd his parks, like a good shifty
Landlord, that's honest, wise and thrifty,
Up comes Don Quixotte on his mare,
Gives him a box behind the ear;
And you must know this trick he play'd,
At the same time when he had said,
142
And faithful friend, de tout mon cœur,
Which proves, let him say what he can,
He did not like an honest man;
One day, perhaps, he will repent it,
For soon or late 'twill be resented.
Mean time the mare gain'd nothing by it,
She quickly found a change of diet,
As having neither corn nor straw,
Nor hay, to fill his hungry maw.
| The Poetical Works of the Ingenious and Learned William Meston | |