Epistle XXXIV. Upon riding on a tyred Horse

'TWas hot, and our Olympick Charioter,
Limbeck'd the body of the Traveller;
Which to prevent, I like the Sun did go:
He was on horse back, I on horse-back too:
So on we go to view the desolation
Of that half-plague to our distressed Nation:
But my Horse was so superstitious grown,
He would fall down, and worship every stone:
Nay he in reverence to each holy place,
Was often seen to fall upon his face.
And had I been inclin'd to Popishness,
I needed have no other cross but this:
Within a mile or two, without command,
Do what I could, this Jade would make a stand:
I prais'd him, thinking glory were a spur
To prick him on, all would not make him stir.
All worldly things do post away we know,
But yet my Horse would neither run nor go.
What everlasting Creature should this be,
That all things are less permanent then he!
So long I kick'd the people did suppose
The arm-less man had beat a drum with's toes:
But though a march or an alar'm I beat,
The sensless Horse took all for a retreat:
The peoples jeers mov'd me to no remorse,
No more then all my kicks did move my Horse:
Had Phaetons horses been as mine is, They
Needed no reyns, they'ld never run away.
I wish'd for old Copernicus to prove,
That while we both stood still, the Earth would move
Oh for an Earthquake, that the hills might meet,
To bring us home, though we mov'd not our feet!
All would not do, I was constrain'd to be,
The bringer up of a Foot Company.
But now in what a woful case were I,
If like our Troopers I were put to flie.
I wish all cowards (if that be too much)
Half of our Hosemen, which I'll swear are such;
In the next fight when they begin to flee,
They may be plagu'd with a tyr'd Horse like me.