FAVOURITE FABLES. 39

In vain he struggles or complains,
Incessant blows reward his pains.
To-morrow varies but his toil :

Chained to the plough, he breaks the soil ;
While scanty meals at night repay

The painful labours of the day.

Subdued by toil, with anguish rent,
His self-upbraidings found a vent.
‘“‘Wretch that Iam!”’ he sighing said,
“ By arrogance and folly led;

Had but my restive youth been brought
To learn the lesson nature taught,
Then had I, like my sires of yore,

The prize from every courser bore.
Now, lasting servitude’s my lot,

My birth contemned, my speed forgot ;
Doomed am I, for my pride, to bear

A living death from year to year.”’

MORAL.

He who disdains control, will only gain
A youth of pleasure for an age of pain.