Frank Horne, "My Words" (1926)
.... a Pegasus herd,
And I could whip them
Flying
.... up the crest of Parnassus
With great wings outspread and all a’shine
In the morning sun. .
But instead
.... they trudge and crawl
Like any plow horse--
A sluggish pack
....their broad backs wet
And steaming
In their labor.
Their pace is so slow
In the morning sun. . . .
Published in The Crisis, May 1926