Poor Donkey! I'll give him
A handful of grass;
I'm sure he's an honest,
Though stupid, old ass.
He trots to the market
To carry the sack,
And lets me ride all the
Way home on his back;
And only just stops
By the ditch for a minute,
To see if there's any
Fresh grass for him in it.
'Tis true, now and then
He has got a bad trick
Of standing stock-still,
And just trying to kick:
But then, poor old fellow!
You know he can't tell
That standing stock-still
Is not using me well;
For it never comes into
His head, I dare say,
To do his work first,
And then afterwards play.
No, no, my good donkey!
I'll give you some grass,
For you know no better,
Because you're an ass;
But what little donkeys
Some children must look,
Who stand, very like you,
Stock-still at their book,
And waste every moment
Of time as it passes--
A great deal more stupid
And silly than asses!