Poem by Robert Burns

To John Taylor

With Pegasus upon a day,
  	Apollo, weary flying, –
Through frosty hills the journey lay, –
  	On foot the way was plying.

Poor slip-shod giddy Pegasus
  	Was but a sorry walker;
To Vulcan then Apollo goes
  	To get a frosty calker.

Obliging Vulcan fell to work,
  	Threw by his coat and bonnet,
And did Sol’s business in a crack;
  	Sol paid 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.

1. Fairest Maid on Devon Banks
2. The Highland Lassie
3. Weary Fa’ You, Duncan Gray
4. Farewell to Ballochmyle
5. Lines Written under the Picture of Miss Burns

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