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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519557" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Ye Old Mule</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519557" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Ye old mule that think yourself so fair,<br>Leave off with craft your beauty to repair,<br>For it is true, without any fable,<br>No man setteth more by riding in your saddle. <br>Too much travail so do your train appair. <br> Ye old mule</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519557" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">With false savour though you deceive th'air, <br>Whoso taste you shall well perceive your lair<br>Savoureth somewhat of a Kappurs stable.<br> Ye old mule</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519557" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Ye must now serve to market and to fair,<br>All for the burden, for panniers a pair.<br>For since gray hairs been powdered in your sable,<br>The thing ye seek for, you must yourself enable<br>To purchase it by payment and by prayer,<br> Ye old mule.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Sir+Thomas+Wyatt">Sir Thomas Wyatt</a></strong></div>

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