 | Rhymes with reason and without |  |
316
XXIII.
RIDING.
Why should the rich despise the poor?—ay, true,Why should they, to be sure? And why should I,
While in my coach, look down on passers-by
With scornful arrogance, as some folks do?
I will not; Jehu shall have ample sway,
I'll let him take up all who choose to ride;
My coach has room enough on every side,
And he shall fill it, please he, day by day.
Come in, my crippled friend, we'll find you place;
And you, stout lady, slow with fat and age,
Here you the ills of gout or corns may 'suage;
Come in, sweet damsel with the blooming face;
Come in; what 's this? What, hold your hand for pay?
A “bus,” i' faith! thus grandeur's dreams decay!
| Rhymes with reason and without | |