Page:The Poems of John Dyer (1903).djvu/63

 Divides the tedded hay, then be their feet Accustom'd to the barriers of the rick, Or some warm umbrage; left, in erring flight, When the broad dazzling snows descend, they run Dispers'd to ditches, where the swelling drift Wide overwhelms: anxious, the shepherd swains Issue with axe and spade, and, all abroad, In doubtful aim explore the glaring waste, And some, perchance, in the deep delve upraise, Drooping, ev'n at the twelfth cold dreary day, With still continu'd feeble pulse of life, The glebe, their Fleece, their flesh, by hunger gnaw'd. Ah, gentle Shepherd! thine the lot to tend, Of all that feel distress, the most assail'd, Feeble, defenceless: lenient be thy care; But spread around thy tend'rest diligence In flow'ry spring-time, when the new-dropp'd lamb, Tott'ring with weakness by his mother's side, Feels the fresh world about him, and each thorn, Hillock, or furrow, trips his feeble feet: O! guard his meek sweet innocence from all Th' innumerous ills that rush around his life; Mark the quick kite, with beak and talons prone, Circling the skies to snatch him from the plain; Observe the lurking crows; beware the brake, There the sly fox the careless minute waits; Nor trust thy neighbour's dog, nor earth, nor sky: Thy bosom to a thousand cares divide. Eurus oft slings his hail; the tardy fields Pay not their promis'd food; and oft the dam O'er her weak twins with empty udder mourns, Or fails to guard when the bold bird of prey Alights, and hops in many turns around, And tires her, also turning: to her aid Be nimble, and the weakest in thine arms