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 Laid on the strong-neck'd ox; no gentle bud

The sun had dried; the cattle chew'd the cud

Low levell'd on the grass; no fly's quick sting

Enforc'd the stonehorse in a furious ring

To tear the passive earth, nor lash his tail

About his buttocks broad; the slimy snail

Might on the wainscot, by his many mazes,

Winding meanders and self-knitting traces,

Be follow'd where he stuck, his glittering slime

Not yet wip'd off. It was so early time,

The careful smith had in his sooty forge

Kindled no coal; nor did his hammers urge

His neighbours' patience: owls abroad did fly,

And day as then might plead his in fancy.

great Hyperion left his golden throne

That on the dancing waves in glory shone,

For whose declining on the western shore

The oriental hills black mantles wore,

And thence apace the gentle twilight fled,

That had from hideous caverns ushered

All-drowsy Night, who in a car of jet.

By steeds of iron-grey, which mainly sweat

Moist drops on all the world, drawn through the sky,

The helps of darkness waited orderly.

First thick clouds rose from all the liquid plains;

Then mists from marishes, and grounds whose veins

Were conduit-pipes to many a crystal spring;

From standing pools and fens were following

Unhealthy fogs; each river, every rill

Sent up their vapours to attend her will

These pitchy curtains drew 'twixt earth and heaven

And as Night's chariot through the air was driven,

Clamour grew dumb, unheard was shepherd's song

And silence girt the woods; no warbling tongue