University of Virginia Library

When she was in this woful plight,
It was a mortifying sight,
To see the poor beast toss and tumble,
Bow down her head, and groan and grumble;
It would have broke a heart of stone
To hear her make her ruthful moan;
For you must know Balaam's ass
Was never in so bad a pass;
If forward she advanc'd one pace,
Destruction star'd her in the face;
If backward she essay'd to go,
It would not do, he spurr'd her so;
Nor could she turn to either hand,
Nor had she strength enough to stand;
Nor could an angel loose her tongue,
The beast was lifeless, dumb and clung;
So down she tumbled on the ground,
And, fainting, fell into a swoon:
Then heav'd her head, and gave a groan,
And seem'd to say, Ohon! ohon!
I who liv'd once at rack and manger,
'Ere I was mounted by a stranger,
Am now reduc'd to this sad pickle,
Because I foolish was and fickle,
And left my good and careful master,
I justly suffer this disaster;
Then down again she droop'd her head,
And when she seem'd to be near dead,
And fiend a thing was in her belly,
He had the confidence to tell ye,
And that indeed with a notandum,
(Tho' most men thought he spoke at random),
Observe, quoth he, I say, the Mare
Is fatter than she was last year.