Its sides display’d a dazzling hue,
Its harness tight, its lining new:
No scheme-enamoured youth, I ween,
Survey’d the gaily deck’d machine,
But fondly long’d to seize the reins,
And whirl o’er Campsfield’s tempting plains.
Mean time it chanc’d, that hard at hand
A one-horse chair had took its stand;
When thus our vehicle begun
To sneer the luckless chair and one.