大象传媒

With Pegasus upon a day
Apollo, weary flying,
(Thro' frosty hills the journey lay)
On foot the way was plying.

Poor, slipshod, giddy Pegasus
Was, but a sorry walker,
To Vulcan then Apollo gaes,
To get a frosty calker.

Obliging Vulcan fell to wark,
Threw by his coat and bonnet;
And did Sol's business in a crack,
Sol pay'd him with a sonnet.

Ye Vulcan's Sons of Wanlockhead,
Pity my sad disaster;
My Pegasus is poorly shod,
I'll pay you like my Master.