I would not ride on Pegasus, I fear I am not able; Be mine a less ambitious joy, -- To work about his stable. I'll feed him facts or fancies fine, And none shall cut them better; Correctly I will curry him In slightest point and letter. His flowing mane in every line Shall be arranged precisely, His typographic crib and stall Shall aye be ordered nicely. Perhaps a poet, soaring high, A poet very kind, Some day, for just a little flight, Will take me on behind! |