Reuben and Other Poems by Robert Leighton |
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SIR PETER'S CURE. |
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 | Reuben and Other Poems |  |
163
SIR PETER'S CURE.
Some masters are so puff'd up with conceit,
They think their servants dirt beneath their feet.
At best mere cattle to be driven in reins,
Not fellow-beings with the use of brains,
Further than comprehend their brief commands,
Then execute them—not with heads but hands.
But old Sir Peter, who was of this class,
Got cured, and this was how it came to pass.
They think their servants dirt beneath their feet.
At best mere cattle to be driven in reins,
Not fellow-beings with the use of brains,
Further than comprehend their brief commands,
Then execute them—not with heads but hands.
But old Sir Peter, who was of this class,
Got cured, and this was how it came to pass.
A favourite horse, that cost five hundred pounds,
Was sent to grass outside the manor grounds,
For some disorder, as was understood,
That wanted rest, free air, and change of food;
And once a-day, at least, the Knight contrived
To walk across and see how Roland thrived.
Was sent to grass outside the manor grounds,
For some disorder, as was understood,
That wanted rest, free air, and change of food;
And once a-day, at least, the Knight contrived
To walk across and see how Roland thrived.
One sultry day, when strolling in the park,
He spied some distance off, all stiff and stark,
This famous hunter lying on his side,
With legs and tail outstretch'd, and nostrils wide.
“Yes, yes, I knew 'twould come to that,” he said;
“A noble beast—five hundred pounds—dead, dead!”
Then straightway to the hall his steps retraced,
And called his groom: “Here, sirrah, sharp, make haste,
Be off, get all the needed help you can,
And skin me Roland!” “But, sir—” cried the man,
“You have your orders, go, bring me the skin—
A sorry prize by such a horse to win.”
He spied some distance off, all stiff and stark,
This famous hunter lying on his side,
With legs and tail outstretch'd, and nostrils wide.
“Yes, yes, I knew 'twould come to that,” he said;
“A noble beast—five hundred pounds—dead, dead!”
Then straightway to the hall his steps retraced,
And called his groom: “Here, sirrah, sharp, make haste,
164
And skin me Roland!” “But, sir—” cried the man,
“You have your orders, go, bring me the skin—
A sorry prize by such a horse to win.”
After some hours the groom came up the road
Behind the manor, bending with his load;
And with Sir Peter chancing there to meet,
He laid the burden at his master's feet:—
“Sir, there is Roland's skin. I think he knew
We came to take it, for he up and flew
At such a sweep as only bird could match—
Never before was he so ill to catch!”
“You thoughtless rascal! skin a living horse!
Was he not dead, you villain?”
Behind the manor, bending with his load;
And with Sir Peter chancing there to meet,
He laid the burden at his master's feet:—
“Sir, there is Roland's skin. I think he knew
We came to take it, for he up and flew
At such a sweep as only bird could match—
Never before was he so ill to catch!”
“You thoughtless rascal! skin a living horse!
Was he not dead, you villain?”
“Yes, of course,
After we killed him—dead enough, and still;
But he was ill to catch and hard to kill.”
After we killed him—dead enough, and still;
But he was ill to catch and hard to kill.”
“You fool, you implement, you brainless man,
You've killed the noblest horse that ever ran:
Roland the brave, Roland my only pride,
Slain by an ass, diminish'd to a hide!
See what it is to want a thinking head!
You might have known I thought the horse was dead.”
You've killed the noblest horse that ever ran:
Roland the brave, Roland my only pride,
Slain by an ass, diminish'd to a hide!
See what it is to want a thinking head!
You might have known I thought the horse was dead.”
“Ay, so I might, Sir Peter,” cried the groom,
“If in your orders you had left me room
To use this brainless and unthinking head;
But what are orders, sir, if not obeyed?”
“True, John,” replied Sir Peter, “you are right;
So take this gory record from my sight.
I still must order, and you must obey;
But there's the literal, and the other way;
And if you take the latter, I will wink
At the offence, and give you leave to think.”
“If in your orders you had left me room
To use this brainless and unthinking head;
But what are orders, sir, if not obeyed?”
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So take this gory record from my sight.
I still must order, and you must obey;
But there's the literal, and the other way;
And if you take the latter, I will wink
At the offence, and give you leave to think.”
| Reuben and Other Poems | |