To John Taylor (Poem by Robert Burns)

To John Taylor

By Robert Burns

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.