Perhaps 'twas riding did the feat:
He rides,—but still he cannot eat.
At last a friend, to physic bred,
Perceived his case, and thus he said:
"Be ruled by me, you soon shall eat,
With hearty gust, the plainest meat;
A pint of milk each rising morn,
Procure from cow of sable horn;
Shake in three drops of morning dew
From twig of ever-verdant yew;