Classic Poem

With two spurs or one; no great matter which,
Boots bought, or boots borrow'd, a whip or a switch,
Five shillings or less the hire of his beast,
Paid part into hand—you must wait for the rest.
Thus equipp'd Academicus climbs up his horse,
And out they both sally for better or worse;
His heart void of fear and as light as a feather,
And in violent haste to go—nor knowing whither;
Thro' the fields and the towns, see, he scampers along,
And is bark'd at, and laugh'd at by old and by young,
Till at length, overspent, and his sides smear'd with blood,
Down tumbles his horse, man and all in the mud.
In a waggon or chaise shall he finish his route?
Oh scandalous fate! he must do it on foot.
Young gentlemen hear,—I am older than you,
The advice that I give I have prov'd to be true,
Wherever your journey may be, never doubt it,
The faster you ride, you're the longer about it.