Untitled (Ride him. Are these boys and girls)

Ride him. Are these boys and girls
Swine unworthy of your pearls?

I wondered and I pondered long
Made for these poor folk a song

Rhymed the racing page of papers
Copied all the jazzy capers

Degraded my soul. They laughed
One said to the other: "Who's the daft

Man over there?" A small boy flung
A stone through the heart of my best song.

Still Peadar O'Donnell thinks Pegasus
Should be ridden by the masses.