Think'st thou he would like to know
What has brought my state so low?
When not half so old as he,
I was bounding, light and free,
By my happy mother's side,
Ere my mouth the bit had tried,
Or my head had felt the rein
Drawn, my spirits to restrain.
But I'm now so worn and old,
Half my sorrows can't be told.
When my services began,
How I loved my master, man!
I was pampered and caressed,--
Housed, and fed upon the best.
Many looked with hearts elate
At my graceful form and gait,--
At my smooth and glossy hair
Combed and brushed with daily care.
Studded trappings then I wore,
And with pride my master bore,--
Glad his kindness to repay
In my free, but silent way.
Then was found no nimble steed
That could equal me in speed,
So untiring, and so fleet
Were these now, old, aching feet.
But my troubles soon drew nigh:
Less of kindness marked his eye,
When my strength began to fail;
And he put me off at sale.
Constant changes were my fate,
Far too grievous to relate.
Yet I've been, to say the least,
Through them all a patient beast.
Older--weaker--still I grew:
Kind attentions all withdrew!
Little food, and less repose;
Harder burdens--heavier blows,--
These became my hapless lot,
Till I sunk upon the spot!
This maimed limb beneath me bent
With the pain it underwent.
Pages:
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80