VII. The Mules and Robbers

Two laden Mules were on the road—

A charge of money was bestowed

Upon the one, the other bore

Some sacks of barley. He before.

Proud of his freight, begun to swell,

Stretch’d out his neck, and shook his bell.

The poor one, with an easy pace,

Came on behind a little space,

When on a sudden, from the wood

A gang of thieves before them stood;

And, while the muleteers engage,

Wound the poor creature in their rage

Eager they seize the golden prize,

But the vile barley-bags despise.

The plunder’d mule was all forlorn,

The other thank’d them for their scorn:

“’Tis now my turn the head to toss,

Sustaining neither wound nor loss.”

The low estate’s from peril clear,

But wealthy men have much to fear.

Riley