The Works of John Hall-Stevenson ... Corrected and Enlarged. With Several Original Poems, Now First Printed, and Explanatory Notes. In Three Volumes |
I. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
I. |
II. |
II. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
XV. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
XVIII. |
XIX. |
XX. |
XXI. | FABLE XXI. |
XXII. |
XXIII. |
XXIV. |
XXV. |
XXVI. |
III. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
I. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
The Works of John Hall-Stevenson | ||
118
FABLE XXI.
The Cavalry for cart and ploughOnce on a time were much abus'd,
As badly fed and as ill us'd,
As thistle-eating Asses now.
This dietetic alteration
Was owing partly to a peace,
And partly to the great increase
Of folly like an inundation.
That is, to the increase of Hunters,
Racers for Ladies, Pads for Bunters;
Of Routs, Assemblies, and, of course,
Cuckoldom simple and alone;
And Cuckoldom in the bon ton,
Compounded with Divorce;
Which run on wheels, and swell th'account
Of Horses to a vast amount.
By this increase, it was observ'd,
And, from the great decrease of corn,
The labouring Horse was almost starv'd,
A thing not to be born;
119
In presence of the buinham Lord,
Unless their wrongs were soon redress'd,
Their right and lawful feed restor'd,
These Carters would renounce the yoak,
The plough and cart might both stand still,
They would not move a wheel nor spoak
Against their own free will.
A headstrong Steed
Cry'd out, with indignation fir'd,
Do as your masters have requir'd;
Or, like vile rebels, you shall bleed.
Shall we be stinted in our Oats,
For base-born Cattle, such as you?
Sooner we'll help to cut your throats,
Than lose an atom of our due.
Go, scoundrels, pick yon common bare,
Your freehold, and your proper fare.
Poor Grey! reply'd one of the blacks,
This talk, methinks, is silly talk,
For one long us'd to drudge and walk,
And crouch, beneath a miller's sacks.
120
The best pack-horses are the Greys;
And furthermore, when we are dead,
Hung up, and punish'd to your mind,
The greatest slaves, at last, you'll find,
Will be the highest bred.
The Works of John Hall-Stevenson | ||