Classic Poem

Multorum Manibus Grande Levatur Onus

In Italy not long ago
There was a governor, you know,
Who in short space, as we are told,
Fill'd all his bags with store of gold.
The honest townsmen vext to see
Themselves become as poor ... as me,
They were in such a wretched taking
It set their very hearts a-aching;
And therefore, to remove this dudgeon,
They were resolv'd the old curmudgeon
Without a further noise or rout
Should leave the city and turn out.
But while this mighty resolution
Waited for thanks and execution,
Up starts a fellow with a beard,
Whom ev'rybody lov'd and fear'd.
Hearkee, good folks, said he, I pray;
D'ye know what 'tis you mean; you say
We'd turn the governor away;
But hold, without much farther arguing,
There want two words to make the bargain.
'Tis true, you say that trading's dull,
And that the governor's bags are full,
So very full they all run o'er;
Why, then, ye fools, they'll hold no more;
But if another man should come
In Mr. What-d'ye-call-him's room,
He'll bring a family in rags,
And whole cartloads of empty bags,
Which he will fill as how you know,
And, neighbours, pray what think ye now?
At this the rabble shook their heads,
They cross'd themselves, and told their beads
To think a man so old as he
Into such deep affairs should see,
While he, to raise their admiration,
Tickl'd their ears with this relation.
A man there was, said he, whose field
Good store of glorious corn did yield,
Which to preserve a cock he set
To watch all hours, dry and wet;
To be awake both night and morn,
That none might steal away the corn.
But e'er two days pass'd o'er his head
He came and saw the cock had fed
So heartily that he grew fat.
The thrifty hind, provok'd at that,
Sent Cock-a-Doodle waddling home,
And brought a brace of bulls in's room.
Then three days more at home he stay'd,
But when he came he was dismay'd:
Good Lord! How he did storm and roar!
He now was madder than before.
Then did he stamp, and rave, and cry,
And made a noise, good reason why;
The wanton bulls had made such haste
To lay the whole enclosure waste,
That as I live ...
'Twixt Monday night and Friday morn
They had not left one ear of corn.