Page:Pocock's Everlasting Songster.djvu/120

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Alike bred for joy in the field or the courfe, Always fure to come thro' by fome fta.iHich and

fleet horfe ; And when fairly run down, the fox yields up his

breath, The high mettled racer is in at the death.

Grown aged, ufedup, and turn'd out of the ftud, Lame, fpavin'd and wind-gall'd, but yet with, fome

blood ;

While knowing poftilions his pedigree trace, Tell his dam won that fweep-ftakes. his fire won

that race :

And what matches he'd won, to the oftlers count o'er, As they loiter their time by fome hedg'd ale-houfe door, Whilft the harnefs fore galls, and the fpurs his fjdes

. goad, The high-mettled racer's a hack on the road.

At length, old and- feeble, trudging early and late, Worn down by difeafe, he bends to his fate ; From morning to evening, he tugs round a mill;, Or draws fand till the fand of hh> hour-glafs Hands

frill :

And now cold and lifelefs, expofed to view In the very fame cart which he yefterday drew ; Whilft a pitying crowd his fad relicks furrounds, The high-mettled racer is fold for the hounds.

��PARODY ON THE HIGH - METTLED RACER.

SEE the ball-room thick crowded, the dance is begun,

Hear, thro 'the bright circle, what foft murmurs run; A thoufand ^ay characters float in the maze, Lords, gamblers, fine ladies, all keep up the gaze :

While

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