THE FATAL HORSE.


BALLAD THE EIGHTH.

Of creatures that to man attend,
His pastime, or his wealth;
The Horse we cherish as a friend,
To sickness and to health.

Bless them, who shield a steed from woe.
By age from toil releas'd!
And hated be the proud, who shew
No mercy to their beast!

A wretch once doom'd, tho' rich and strong,
His faithful horse to bleed,
But tell his fate, my moral song,
For that atrocious deed!

An antient knight, of Kentish race;
Of his athletic frame
Prone to indulge the passions base,
Sir Geoffrin his name,

Against a priest indulg'd his rage,
Who charitably good,