Page:Ferishtah's fancies - Browning (1884).djvu/79

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FERISHTAH'S FANCIES.
71
And promise, destined each to go, next week,Swiftly and surely with his merchandizeFrom Nishapur to Sebzevah, no truceTo tramp, but travel, spite of sands and drouth,In days so many, lest they miss the Fair.Each falls to meditation o'er his cribPiled high with provender before the start.Quoth this: 'My soul is set on winning praiseFrom goodman lord and master,—hump to hoof,I dedicate me to his service. How?Grass, purslane, lupines and I know not what,Crammed in my manger? Ha, I see—I see!No, master, spare thy money! I shall trudgeThe distance and yet cost thee not a doitBeyond my supper on this mouldy bran.'
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