BEASTS ROYAL.

Yellow wheels and red wheels, and wheels that squeak and roar,

Big buttons, brown wigs, and many capes of buff ...

Someone's bound for Sussex, in a coach-and-four;

And, when the long whips crack,

Running at the back

Barks the swift Dalmatian, whose spots are seven-score.

White dust and grey dust, fleeting tree and tower,

Brass horns and copper horns, blowing loud and bluff ...

Someone's bound for Sussex, at eleven miles an hour;

And, when the long horns blow,

From the wheels below

Barks the swift Dalmatian, tongued like an apple-flower.

Big domes and little domes, donkey-carts that jog,

High stocks and low pumps and admirable snuff ...

Someone strolls at Brighton, not very much incog.;

And, panting on the grass,

In his collar bossed with brass,

Lies the swift Dalmatian, the KING's plum-pudding dog.