Poor Donkey
 | Poor donkey, I'll give him a handful of grass; I'm sure he's a good-natured honest old ass: He trots to the market to carry the sack, And lets me ride all the way home on his back; And only just stops by the ditch for a minute, To see if there's any fresh grass for him in it. 'Tis true, now and then he has got a bad trick, Of standing stock-still, or just trying to kick; But then, our old fellow, you know he can't tell, That standing stock-still is not using me well; To do his work first, and then afterwards play. No, no, my good donkey, I'll give you some grass; For you know no better, because you're an ass: But what little donkeys some children must look, Who stand, very like you, stock-still at their book, And waste every moment of time as it passes, A great deal more stupid and silly than asses! |