Classic Poem

Between the Author and his Favourite Mare, Occasion'd by her Stumbling Mare .

O master, I have lost my crupper. Master .

Then, mistress, you shall lose your supper. Mare .

Nay, worse than that, I've broke my knees. Master .

Break your neck, madam, if you please. Mare .

Then who must carry your gundy gut? Master .

Why, I can walk, you saucy slut. Mare .

I wish you would: what makes you ride,
And poor, unhappy me bestride?
With such a weight you crush me down,
That as we pass from town to town
The people cry, Was ever seen
A man so fat, a mare so lean? Master .

I prize the vulgar not a pin;
'Tis not my fault that you're so thin.
Hadn't you enough of corn and hay,
At least three quarterns ev'ry day? Mare .

But then, dear sir, you work me so
That I can hardly stand or go;
No rest from Saturday to Monday,
For, heathen-like, you ride on Sunday,
And lest one hour I should stand still,
I'm harrass'd by your brats and Will;
With two at once upon my back
I'm really made a perfect hack;
I neither younger grow nor stronger;
In short, I can hold out no longer.
My labour far exceeds my meat,
My shoes are batter'd off my feet;
Nor will I carry ...
. . . . . . . . . a bard so odd
Unless I'm better fed and shod. Master .

Say what you will, we must contrive
Some way to see my daughter Clive. Mare .

Why, there's the stage coach and the barge,
But you want me to save the charge.
Upon my soul! you'd better stay,
For I shall drop you by the way.
Besides, you told me you could walk. Master .

Hussy! d'ye know to whom you talk?
I'll send you to the collar-maker's. Mare .

You'd better send me to twelve acres.
The worthiest man in all the nation
Has giv'n me there an invitaion,
In Walthamstow's delightful mead
At liberty to range and feed;
From labour free, and quite at ease,
To cull the herbage where I please.
There, if you would but let me stay
Until the latter end of May,
Take a walk down, and you shall see
The vast improvements made in me.
With skin so sleek and flowing mane,
You'll hardly know your mare again.
Then keep me only for your use,
Nor of good nature make abuse;
But treat me gentler than before,
And I shall never stumble more.