A free-school urchin hangs behind some way upon the road—
Oh! proud must be our omnibus of such a jolly load!
And proud is Tom, the driver, too, who smiles, and well he may,
Of twice three people (in and out) who’ll each a shilling pay;
He’s proud, too, of that old grey horse, who earns so very hard
The hay and water he shall have when once more in his yard.
Oh, would that I were Tom, to drive and order with a word,
That old grey horse, whose harness is made up of tape and cord,
I’d shout unto the free-school boy who’s hanging on our lee,
‘If you don’t mind, I’ll whip behind, as quickly you shall see.’