H ERE rest the bones of ROYAL GIFT
Safe interr'd at Dead man's Lift;
Now no longer strong or swift.

As my pen is rather weak
May I, SIRS , your pardon seek,
If the horse himself shall speak:

" Favourite of our King of Spain,
Oft he held my tightening rein,
Briskly cantering o'er the plain.

" Round the Prado, at Madrid
Many a time the monarch rid
With strange fancies in his head,

" One of which I will disclose,
Safely now , I may suppose: —
Hear it then, my friends and foes.

" Travelling on a plashy road
With my ever honored load
I threw my master in the mud.

" This was more than once repeated
Till the king got overheated,
On my back no more he seated.

" Angry at my vicious way,
He sent me to America
To witness presidential sway.

" He sent me here, without Petition,
T' escape the Holy Inquisition;
Such the purpose of my mission.

" Weary of the Royal Plan ,
Hither I came to find a man,
And die — a GOOD REPUBLICAN . "