BELL.  Now set we forward on a journey for life.  Come take your fellow-travellers.  Old George, I’m sorry to see thee still plod on alone.

     HEART.  With gaudy plumes and jingling bells made proud,
     The youthful beast sets forth, and neighs aloud.
     A morning-sun his tinselled harness gilds,
     And the first stage a down-hill greensward yields.
     But, oh—
     What rugged ways attend the noon of life!
     Our sun declines, and with what anxious strife,
     What pain we tug that galling load, a wife.
     All coursers the first heat with vigour run;
     But ’tis with whip and spur the race is won.