Ye Pedagogue
A Ballad
I.
RIGHTE learnéd is ye Pedagogue,
Fulle apt to reade and spelle,
And eke to teache ye parts of speeche,
And strap ye urchins welle.
II.
For as ’tis meete to soake ye feete,
Ye ailinge heade to mende;
Ye younker’s pate to stimulate,
He beats ye other ende!
III.
Righte lordlie is ye Pedagogue,
As any turbaned Turke;
For welle to rule ye District Schoole,
It is no idle worke.
IV.
For oft Rebellion lurketh there,
In breaste of secrete foes,
Of malice fulle, in waite to pulle
Ye Pedagogue his nose!
V.
Sometimes he heares with trembling feares
Of ye ungodlie rogue
On mischiefe bent, with felle intent
To licke ye Pedagogue!
VI.
And if ye Pedagogue be smalle,
When to ye battell led,
In such a plighte, God sende him mighte
To break ye rogue his heade!
VII.
Daye after daye, for little paye,
He teacheth what he can,
And bears ye yoke, to please ye folke,
And ye committee-man.
VIII.
Ah! many crosses hath he borne,
And many trials founde,
Ye while he trudged ye district through,
And boarded rounde and rounde!
IX.
Ah! many a steake hath he devoured,
That, by ye taste and sighte,
Was in disdaine, ’twas very plaine,
Of Daye his patent righte!
X.
Fulle solemn is ye Pedagogue,
Amonge ye noisy churls,
Yet other while he hath a smile
To give ye handsome girls;
XI.
And one,—ye fayrest mayde of all,—
To cheere his wayninge life,
Shall be, when Springe ye flowers shall bringe,
Ye Pedagogue his wife!
John Godfrey Saxe.