Strong bulls to town upon their shoulders drew
A four wheel'd wain. Its creakings were not few.
Then was the driver wroth and drawing near
He spoke so plain it could not choose but hear,
"Thou worst of goods, will not thy groaning cease,
Though they, whose shoulders draw thee, hold their peace?"
It is a base man's way to raise a moan
As if the toil of others were his own.
Source: Davies: Fables of Babrius = Babrius 52.
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