Classic Poem

You make me now a real Steed bestride,
Who did before on Fancy's Courser ride;
Poor Pegasus , the Poet's founder'd Jade,
Serv'd me, as all the Brothers of the Trade.
On him we ride a hunting after Fame,
A dang'rous Chase, and for a paltry Game!
But you, my Ease and Safety to procure,
Mount me upon a Horse, that's tame and sure.
Yet he has one damn'd Fault, that he must eat;
While Pegasus requir'd no kind of Meat:
Cheap, tho' unsure, no Provender He needs,
But, like the Race-Horse, still his Master feeds.