He dragg’d the load he couldn’t lift.
Achilles, thus, drew round the Trojan plain,
The ten years’ Adversary he had slain.—
Yet,—for I scorn a Grecian to disparage,—
Achilles in more style, and splendour, did it;
He sported Murder strapp’d behind his carriage,—
But bourgeois Roger sneak’d on foot, and hid it.
Roger, however, labour’d on,—
Puffing and tugging;—
And hauling John,