Classic Poem

Once to a fair — was Haymarket its name? —
Where many things to purchasers appeal
Of many kinds, a hungry poet came
Leading the Muses' steed, to have a deal.

Loud neighed the winged steed
And bucked and pranced quite in the proper style:
Admiring cries from every lip proceed: —
" The royal beast! But pity to defile
His slender form with such a pair of wings!
He were a credit to a tip-top team;
You say that from a noted breed he springs?
But who of driving in the air would dream? "

But not a soul of them would risk his cash,
Till spoke a farmer glad to cut a dash: —
" True that with useless wings he is equipped,
But then they can be either bound or clipped,
And make his hauling not a bit the worse:
Come, twenty pounds I'll venture for the horse! "
The dealer, glad enough, responded — " Done! "
And Hans led off the prize that he had won.

The noble beast no sooner felt the rein
Than, fretting under the unwonted load,
Away he flew with all his might and main,
And his fine breed and eager mettle showed
By doubling up the cart upon the road
Close to a ditch. — Thought Hans, with such a beast
No carts for me! I know a better scheme;
To-morrow I will tool the stage at least,
And he shall be a leader in the team.
The lively crock will save another pair,
And his exuberance will yield to wear. "

The start was fair enough. The winged steed
Roused his companion to lightning speed.
But, unaccustomed common earth to spurn,
Alas, his flashing glances heavenward turn,
And, with the instinct of a heaven-born hack,
He soon abjures the safe and beaten track,
O'er moor and bog and field the trap he drags,
And with his fire excites the other nags;
Voice could not check them, nor the ribbons guide,
Till, to the terror of the fares inside,
The shattered vehicle at last stood still
Right on the summit of a lofty hill.

" Well, this is leading us a pretty dance, "
Quoth Hans reflecting, with a rueful glance;
" Confound it all, but this will never do;
Let's see if we can't bring the madcap to
By harder work and a more stinted fare. "
Th' experiment was quickly made, and ere
Three days had passed, only a shadow wan
Was the fine steed. — " By Jove, I have a plan, "
Cried Hans, — " Alive, my lads, and yoke him now
Beside my stoutest bullock in the plough! "

No sooner said than done. The winged horse
And bullock o'er the furrows plod their course.
Th' indignant griffin strives with all his might
Again to soar in his accustomed flight.
'Tis vain. The bullock tramps with solemn stride,
And Phaebus' steed must by his pace abide
Until at length, by long resistance spent,
The force from all his mighty members went,
And, mastered by vexation and disgust,
The noble horse fell writhing in the dust.

" Accursed beast, " cried Hans in his despair,
Laying the whip about with all his might.
" E'en for the plough too bad thou art, I swear,
That horse-dealer, the rogue, has done me quite! "

While thus the whip in fury still he plied,
He marked a smart young fellow at his side
Strolling along with free and easy tread,
A cither in his hand; while on his head
A golden fillet graced his auburn hair.
" Whither away, friend, with that precious pair?
That is a team indeed, " the stranger cried,
" Bullock and bird in harness side by side!
Just for a moment trust your horse to me,
Will you? — and you shall see what you shall see. "

The monster was unharnessed in a crack,
And straight the laughing youth was on his back.
The brute, now conscious of a mastering rein,
Champing, began against the bit to strain:
His former self thrown off, behold him rise
A God inspired, with lightnings in his eyes.
Straight to the storm he spreads his glorious wings
And snorting in his freedom heavenward springs,
And ere the eye can follow his ascent,
He soars above the azure firmament.