The Works of John Hall-Stevenson :: :: University of Virginia Library

An Ass was limping in great pain:
A nail, or else a pointed stick,
Had pierc'd his foot into the quick;
And all attempts to get it out were vain.
With melancholy face,
Quite in despair, he turn'd his back
Upon both Regular and Quack,
And told a Wolf his case;
With you, said he, my sufferings end,
Into your paws my life I put:
Eat me; but first, Sir, condescend
To draw the nail out of my foot;
Let me enjoy one moment's ease,
Devour me after when you please.
With teeth as hard as brass,
The Wolf drew out the nail;
On which his patient, John the Ass,
Whisking about his Ass's tail,

Full at the Wolf let fly a stroke,
That broke his jaws, and would have broke
A helmet, or a coat of mail,
That spoil'd his instruments for drawing,
And stripp'd him of his tools for chawing.
Friend, said the Ass, you are right serv'd;
Why would you alter your condition?
'Tis fit a butcher should be starv'd
When he sets up for a physician.
A thousand times it has been told,
'Tis true;
But, if the Fable's trite and old,
You'll own the application's new.
A man of wealth, therefore of weight,
A most notorious malefactor,
Approach'd a minister of state,
With loaded hands, though no contractor;
Five thousand Hoares, five thousand banks,
A ring and twenty thousand thanks;
Take but this thorn out of my side,
Prevent my fall;

My boroughs, ever bound and tied,
Shall wait your lordship's call.
My Lord, said he, naught can defeat us,
If you will grant me my quietus.
'Twas done; and bravely done, no doubt,
For now he join'd his powers and strength,
And had the happiness at length
To help to kick his Lordship out.