My Muses For A Horse

Ezra ha-Yona

A horse! A horse! My muses for a horse!
Thy praise I’ll sing till all my words turn coarse
if thou would give me just the gift of miles
I’ll see thou through the journey’s trials.

My horse is lame, my mule and donkey fickle;
but strong my voice, it comes not at a trickle.
Thy laugh I’ll coax, and all thy tears I’ll mend,
if thou would horse and tack to me give lend.

Alas, again, I make to beg about:
adventure sweet and dire awaits without!
But hope is lost for me to join the quest
until this issue all is put to rest.

I must, therefore, allow a wound to pride:
Would anybody mind giving me a ride?

This page maintained by Cerian Cantwr, cerian@minstrel.com.