I met old Pegasus to-day
While circling through the air;
He seemed as frisky and as gay
As when the gods were there.
His sides were sleek, his eye was keen,
His mane was freshly groomed;
His stride and sweep were just as clean
As when Parnassus bloomed.

I hailed him with a deal of joy,
For Pegasus and I,
Long years ago when I, a boy,
Aspired to soar the sky,
Were on good terms, and now and then
He'd tiptoe in at night
And take me from the realms of men
On some romantic flight.

“Dear Pegasus!” I gayly cried.
“My good old friend of yore,
In all your glory and your pride
You glad my eyes once more!
I feared you dead, or even worse,
Dear Pegasus, alack,
To judge from sundry modern verse
Hitched to some shabby hack!

“I feared perhaps like steeds below,
Once sturdy, strong, and fleet,
You'd come upon those days of woe
That proved you obsolete;
No longer driven by the hand
Of singers temerous
Whose labors in this day demand
An Auto-Pegasus!”

“Neigh! Neigh!” he whinnied with a smile.
“I'm happy as can be.
I've got a new job of a style
That suits me to a T.
I'm stationed on these airy lanes—
A fairly easy berth—
To tow the stranded Aeroplanes
Back to the solid earth!”