Classic Poem

If you wish to see roads in perfection —
A climax of cart-ruts and stones —
Or if you've the least predilection
For breaking your neck or your bones, —
If descents and ascents are inviting, —
If your ankles are strangers to sprains, —
If you'd ever a penchant for sliding, —
Then, to Peppering go by all means! —

Take a coach some dark night in November,
A party of four within side —
Ah! I once had that jaunt, I remember,
And really I pretty near died! —
First across to my neighbour I tumbled
Then into the next lady's lap,
For at ev'ry fresh rut we were jumbled
And jolted at ev'ry new gap! —

So that when we had finished our journey
The coachman who opened the door
Found us tangled so very topturvy —
We rolled out in one bundle, — all four.
And then we were so whisped together,
Legs — dresses — caps — arms — blacks and whites,
That some minutes elapsed before ever
They got us completely to rights! —

If you go in a gig, you are sure to
Get lost in a mist on the hills, —
There's a gibbetted thief on a moor too,
Your mem'ry with murder that fills. —
And besides, if you ride in what fashion
You will — you are sure to get splashed,
Till you get quite incensed, in a passion,
And peppery — like mutton that's hashed.

Or if, on some fine frosty morning,
You make up your mind for a walk, —
Oh! ere such be your project — take warning,
For sunbeams will liquify chalk! —
Step by step you get clogged so — for sartin,
With chalk round your shoes like a rope, —
For to comfort — and eke Day and Martin! —
You might as well walk upon soap! —

From one end of the walk to the other —
It's one awful bootjack to feet —
One mighty pedestrial slither —
For Christianlike progress unmeet! —
Oh! the Peppering roads! Sure 'tis fit there
Should be some requital at last, —
So the inmates you find, when you get there,
Amply pay you for all you have passed! —