To turn them into ale and brandy.
Further I'll not attempt to mix
Myself at all with jockeys' tricks;
Or run a race with such as you,
Who'll take my hints, and beat me too!
For once, then, I'll hold in the reins,
Not to be jostled for my pains:
The 'burning turf' but brings remorse,
And fairly warns me off the course.
So rest, and finger still the 'cole,'