 | Jane and Ann Taylor: Original Poems for Infant Minds |  |
THE HORSE.
A FABLE.
A horse, long used to bit and bridle,
But always much disposed to idle,
Had often wished that he was able
To steal unnoticed from the stable.
But always much disposed to idle,
Had often wished that he was able
To steal unnoticed from the stable.
55
He panted from his inmost soul
To be at nobody's control—
Go his own pace, slower or faster,
In short, do nothing for his master.
To be at nobody's control—
Go his own pace, slower or faster,
In short, do nothing for his master.
But yet he ne'er had got at large,
If Jack, who had him in his charge,
Had not, as many have before,
Forgot to shut the stable-door.
If Jack, who had him in his charge,
Had not, as many have before,
Forgot to shut the stable-door.
Dobbin, with expectation swelling,
Now rose to quit his pleasant dwelling,
But first peeped out, with cautious fear,
T' examine if the coast were clear.
Now rose to quit his pleasant dwelling,
But first peeped out, with cautious fear,
T' examine if the coast were clear.
At length he ventured from his station,
And with extreme self-approbation,
As if delivered from a load,
He galloped to the public road.
And with extreme self-approbation,
As if delivered from a load,
He galloped to the public road.
And here he stood awhile debating,
Till he was almost tired of waiting,
Which way he'd please to bend his course,
Now there was nobody to force.
Till he was almost tired of waiting,
Which way he'd please to bend his course,
Now there was nobody to force.
At last, uncheck'd by bit or rein,
He sauntered down a grassy lane;
And neighed forth many a jocund song,
In triumph, as he passed along.
He sauntered down a grassy lane;
And neighed forth many a jocund song,
In triumph, as he passed along.
56
But when dark night began t' appear,
In vain he sought some shelter near,
And well he knew he could not bear
To sleep out in the open air.
In vain he sought some shelter near,
And well he knew he could not bear
To sleep out in the open air.
The earth was damp, the grass felt raw,
Much colder than his master's straw;
Yet on it he was forced to stretch,
A poor, cold, melancholy wretch.
Much colder than his master's straw;
Yet on it he was forced to stretch,
A poor, cold, melancholy wretch.
The night was dark, the country hilly;
And Dobbin felt extremely chilly;
Perhaps a feeling like remorse
Just then might sting the truant horse.
And Dobbin felt extremely chilly;
Perhaps a feeling like remorse
Just then might sting the truant horse.
As soon as day began to dawn,
Dobbin, with long and weary yawn,
Arose from this his sleepless night,
But in low spirits and bad plight.
Dobbin, with long and weary yawn,
Arose from this his sleepless night,
But in low spirits and bad plight.
“If this,” thought he, “is all I get,
A bed unwholesome, cold, and wet;
And thus forlorn about to roam,
I think I'd better be at home.”
A bed unwholesome, cold, and wet;
And thus forlorn about to roam,
I think I'd better be at home.”
'Twas long ere Dobbin could decide
Betwixt his wishes and his pride,
Whether to live in all this danger,
Or go back sneaking to his manger.
Betwixt his wishes and his pride,
Whether to live in all this danger,
Or go back sneaking to his manger.
57
At last his struggling pride gave way;
The thought of savoury oats and hay
To hungry stomach, was a reason
Unanswerable at this season.
The thought of savoury oats and hay
To hungry stomach, was a reason
Unanswerable at this season.
So off he set with look profound,
Right glad that he was homeward bound;
And trotting, fast as he was able,
Soon gained once more his master's stable.
Right glad that he was homeward bound;
And trotting, fast as he was able,
Soon gained once more his master's stable.
Now Dobbin, after this disaster,
Never again forsook his master,
Convinced he'd better let him mount,
Than travel on his own account.
Never again forsook his master,
Convinced he'd better let him mount,
Than travel on his own account.
| Jane and Ann Taylor: Original Poems for Infant Minds | |