Have mercy for the poor aged horse That has served you so faithful and true; Be to him gentle, and treat him with care, He can feel just as keenly as you. Don't try to get speed when your horse is half starved, But let the poor creature alone; He is patient, submissive, a slave to your will, And obeys you with never a moan.
So eager, and willing, yet feeble and lame, Mayhap is worn out with disease; He is toiling along, his breath nearly gone, He is dreadfully weak in the knees. The harness, replete with prominent knots E'er galls him on shoulder and breast; His bright mournful eyes ask in vain for relief, His anguish is mutely expressed.
You ignore his pleadings, you heed not his pain, Nor endeavor to lighten the load By using your own locomotion to take Yourself up the steep rocky road. Oh! would that the spirit of pitying love Into these thoughtless hearts might instill.— There's many a man can dance all night— But 'twould harm him to walk up a hill!
