Classic Poem

How clumsy the airs of a Cit,
Pretending to frolic and fun!
Is he for extravagance fit
Who is striving, odd's curse!
To ape one of us,
But never, no never can brush off a dun?

The charger, when switching his tail,
Can sweep the flies off from his rump,
But should they a dray-horse assail,
He forgets that he's cropped,
Of all dignity lopped,
And keeps wagging in vain a bit of a stump!