University of Virginia Library

THE DEATH OF DOBBIN

Old Dobbin dead I sing a mournful theme
The noted horse of many a former team
Who in the Glory of his youthfull days
Near fail'd to reap his drivers daily praise
Who too the hero of each story prov'd
Of weights he carried & of loads he mov'd
But ah the praises of the world abide
Long as a buble on a floating tide
Poor worn-out Dobbin good as he had provd
In spite of all the loads he bore & mov'd
And spite of all his worthy labours past
Fell like the rest a cumber ground at last
Ah poor old injur'd Dobbin well might we
Be warn'd to know the worlds deciet from thee
Thou an Example both to horse & man
Shows how we're serv'd when we've done all we can
But tho thy lot old Dobbin-boy was hard
For such real merit to meet such reward
Tho by thy master used so unkind
The rural Muse is glad at heart to find
'Mong thy old friends thy memory still survive
Where worthy deeds are sure to keep alive
Those old companions of thy former time
That knew thee well & knew thee in thy prime
When thou outmatch'd by none to none would yield
That often geard thee in their team to field
Those old Companions of thy former prime
That yok'd thee out to field full many a time
And many a day and many a weary morn
That have with thee the lengthning furrow drawn
And through each timley season as they roll'd
The summers heat & winters cutting cold
Have stood with the[e]; with the[e] as partners shar'd
The toiling slaves to those that better far'd
These where thy friends & these thy friends well knew
A horses worth that might be trusted too
And this they every day could prove & see
The value dobbin of a horse like thee
They by expirience taught knew how to prize
That worth which unexpirienc'd fools despise
And treat thy Memory with that due respect
Which thy self loving master does neglect
Never through him by hardy work's attain'd
And lasts no longer then his ends are gain'd
Sway'd by self interest—when thy best was o'er
As he could profit by thy strength no more
When courage left thee & old age came on
And all the hopes of an amendment gone
When willing still weak efforts provd too true
That thou hadst done the utmost thou cou'dst do
Then merits past and praises all adieu
His profits vanishd and his praises too
On merits past he could'n't tent to call
Nor spare a praise where merits past was all
But turnd the[e] out in yon bare grounds to feed
To pine or die as future fate decreed
And happy future fate did so ordain
To see thy sufferance and to ease thy pain
The Death of Dobbin rural Muse rehearse
Recount his Merits in thy lowly verse
Low as it is if thou thy Verse denies
Poor dobbins merit with his carcass dies
Poets would near (but shame to hint their aid
In things so mean and where no gains are staid)
For well well we now what dobbins left behind
Will neer tempt fulsome flattery to be kind
The task is thine for theres no gains in view
So tune thy reed & Dobbins song pursue
Where grass at stand still all the year is found
Winter & summer scarce above the ground
Where Rushes (usless in most places seen)
Are all devoured (hungers bites so keen)
Where spite of all the spears their leaves contain
Sharp prickly thistles strive to rise in vain
There with a motley drove of sheep & cows
(That on the green all summer daily brouze)
His latter days poor dobbin ended there
When helpless age requird the tenderest care
There painful wanderd up & down the plain
And sought unceasing for a bite in vain
Tho sheep & cows & other horses too
Whent all the day as dobbin usd to do
Tho they expeirencd ere the day was gone
The painful pangs of hunger coming on
Yet doubly blest & happily they fard
When this their lot to Dobbins was compard
Tho daily pind the punishment was small
All day they hungerd & the day was all
When twelve long hours or seeming long was past
The welcome evening brought their wisht repast
Joyful they saw the swains & Maidens come
And heard the signal to prepare for home
There to regale oer upheapd cribs of hay
Their sorrows closing with the closing day
But Dobbin luckless horse of Misery
No hopes had he of upheapd cribs to see
Usless to him approachd each close of day
There he was turn'd & there he was to stay
No pleasure he from closing day could find
But the sad pleasure of being left behind
To him alike the morn & evening came
Each found him pind & left him still the same
There left alone he pind the night away
And blest had he been left alone by day
For had these pilferers on his wretched fare
Ceas'd their intruding daily visits there
He might have joy'd to see the grass encrease
And passd away his latter days in peace
But luck like this for dobbin wor'n't reservd
Twas his misfortune to be pind & starvd
There to remain & patiently to bear
His days & nights in restless hunger there
To search unceasing all in vain for food
And dye by Inches till he died for good
And doubly blest that hour & doubly dear
That showd poor dobin that his end was near.
No happier moment in his life e'er past
Then that sweet moment when he breathd his last
No dearer night since he first drew his breath
Then that dear night which clos'd his eyes in death
Joys was the pains to those he felt before
Pains (happy prospect) he would feel no more
His pains & hunger all for ever flew
When the last groan bid weary life adieu.
Ah poor old dobin badly was't thou serv'd
To what thy merits & thy worth deserv'd
And could thy fellow kind have sence to see
Well might they prove the worlds deciet from thee
From thy Example plainly might be guest
How they'll be thought of when they've done their best
For still theres many a Dobbin left b[e]hind
That to their sorrow will thy treatment find
That spite of all their worthy merits past
Will fall like thee meer Cumber ground's at last.
No merits nothing—or in Lifes decline
This usage dobbin would have neer been thine
For better horse could not be harnesd out
Then Dobbin was when he was young & stout
For well we know and ploughmen all agree
That none for working could be match with thee
For well twas known by ploughman in his prime
Who to their joy hath provd it many a time
When he was young by nature formed stout
A Better horse could not be harnesd out
His heart was willing & too good to yield
Alike the same at home or in the field
True to his trust (a faithful servant provd)
If aught set fast could possible be movd
If down a craggy road or mirey fore
A load had helted f[e]lley deep or more
(For Drivers all for Dobbins help applied)
In courage noble and as nobly tried
No sooner yokd and the fond drivers pride
Had clapt his praises on the heroes side
Then he with all his might his strength decreed
Fell too as willing as he went to feed
Pull after pull he'd take without a word
Wind & repeat it of his own accord
Repeated trials urg'd in vain to flinch
What ere he gaind he never lost an inch
And soon (if equal to his strength it provd)
The joyful driver saw his doubts removd
(Ah! then old Dobin well might be envy raise
Your fellow horses to deserve the praise
Which the pleas'd rustic in his raptures paid
For thy past efforts so deserving made)
And if repeated pulls did plainly prove
The deep sunk load beyond his power to move
Tho worn fatigued his heart undaunted still
Always obedient to his drivers will
And if still left beyond his power to try
Upon his knees the worthy beast would lye
And there his fruitles efforts still mentain
There lye & pull & rise & fall again
And had his drivers faild to interfere
And let him still keep pulling as he were
So true the courage he so often showd
He'd broke his heart & fell beneath his load.
Nor was his worth alone confined here
In drawing well or heavy Lifts to clear
At other labour he was still the same
The best in being & the first in fame
At lighter jobs that gentler ways require
He still performd them to his guides desire
For tho so turbulent when strength's requird
A gentler creature could not be desird
Mild as a lamb a very child might guide
And walk undanger'd by his gentle side
E'en from each Maiden Dob did praise recieve
That to his Masters yearly came to live
Could they (a favour from rough will or john)
But once get Dobbin to ride Market on
His fames foundation then was surely laid
To be aughmented all the time they staid
For tho he was (as carters mostly prove)
But slow of foot (tho never hard to move)
Tho he requird of time a greater share
And on his journey neer had much to spare
His worth & safety did his fame secure
His ways all gentle & his slowness sure
—At Ploughing too he still reservd his fame
His willing heart & Courage still the same
He'd draw a furrow straight without a bend
Clear out the plough & turn it round the end
Without a Leader & without a guide
Ploughmen in Dob with Leader was suplied
Use made him perfect & his heart was good
He took all gamly be what jobs they wou'd
Threatnings were useles either fresh or tir'd
Good words where all the notice he requir'd
No wipcord lashes never markd a Limb
Whipcord & whips were usless all to him
In short (his worth being well & often provd)
At every job his prescence was belovd
The ploughmans only wish & only pride
Was but to be with Dobbins aid supplyd
To have him in their team—for well they knew
That Dobbins merits could be trusted too
But ah resemblance of a flattering Dream
What Boots it Dobbin to have your esteem
—Vain world we know thee—well thy ways can tell
Worth may gain praise when intrest bears the bell
But when thats gone then praises all adieu
Our worth is vanishd & our praises too
The Cobweb praises of the world abide
Long as a Bubble on a floating tide
Poor worn-out Dobbin good as thou had provd
In spite of all the Loads thou bore & movd
In spite of all thy worthy Labours past
To fall (sad fate) a Cumber ground at last
A poor old injurd Dobbin well might we
Be warnd to shun the worlds deciet from thee
Thou an example both to horse & man
Shows how we're servd when weve done all we can