 | Hunting Songs |  |
A Modern Stable.
I
Behold the new stable his lordship has built,Its walls and its stalls painted, varnish'd and gilt;
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Was e'er lodg'd in such state as these quadrupeds are.
II
Pitchfork and bucket, chain, buckle and rack,Burnish'd up till they shine like the coats on their back;
I scarce know on which most applause to bestow,
On the gildings above or the geldings below.
III
What I marvell'd at most, in the front of each stallWhy a slab of blue slate should be fix'd in the wall?
Why a horse (and the query still puzzles my pate)
Like a schoolboy should stand with his eyes on a slate?
IV
Must the heads of our horses be cramm'd now a-dayWith learning as well as their bellies with hay?
Must our yearlings be coach'd till their little go won,
The trainer has taught them “to read as they run.”
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