He plunged into the waves, at last, parforce;
For vainly would he shun the waters green.
Bathed are knees, paunch, and croup, till of that horse Scarcely the head above the wave is seen:
Let him not hope to measure back his course, While smitten with the whip his ears between.
Woe worth him! he must founder by the way, Or into Africa his load convey.