Poor Old Horse - Richard Dawson

At Gateshead in a tanner’s yard

Three young men were jawing hard

A poor old horse they’d fixed to kill

Befell the task to dexterous Bill

Poor old horse

Poor old horse

Hear what they did to the poor old horse

His palms around the hilt of the axe

Delivered such a horrible blow

The horse emerged a strangled cry

He glanced it just above the eye

And now to put it out of pain

Our Billy took another aim

The horse forsook the man he cursed

For the second blow was much like the first

He kept up thumping on its head

And then he worked the body instead

The air grew cloudy with breath so hot

Of man and beast a-mingling

«I'll try no more» conceded Bill

So up stepped Ned to test his skill

He wacked the poor thing on his nose

He sprained his wrist and bloodied his clothes

The foreman came then with his knife

Determined for to take its life

He took his aim and thrust it home

Alas he hit the collarbone

They broke its leg with a rusty spade

Then all upon it heavily laid

To quell the struggle each did their part

Until the blade had reached its heart

Now each he goes his separate path

For a cup full of ale or a nice hot bath

A kiss on the lips of a wife newly wed

Or a look at the baby sleeping in bed