Page:The Poems of John Dyer (1903).djvu/96

 And vales, and azure hills, unerring works : Or that whose num'rous needles, glitt'ring bright, Weave the warm hose to cover tender limbs : Modern invention ; modern is the want. Next from the slacken'd beam the woof, unroll'd, Near some clear-sliding river, Aire or Stroud, Is by the noisy fulling-mill receiv'd, Where tumbling waters turn enormous wheels, And hammers, rising and descending, learn To imitate the industry of man. Oft the wet web is steep'd, and often rais'd, Fast dripping, to the river's grassy bank, And sinewy arms of men, with full-strain'd strength Wring out the latent water : then up-hung On rugged tenters, to the fervid sun Its level surface, reeking, it expands, Still brightening in each rigid discipline, And gathering worth, as human life in pains, Conflicts, and troubles. Soon the clothier's shears And burler's thistle skim the surface sheen. The round of work goes on from day to day, Season to season. So the husbandman Pursues his cares ; his plough divides the glebe ; The seed is sown ; rough rattle o'er the clods The harrow's teeth ; quick weeds his hoe subdues ; The fickle labours, and the slow team strains, Till grateful harvest-home rewards his toils. The ingenious artist, learn'd in drugs, bestows The last improvement; for th' unlabour'd Fleece Rare is permitted to imbibe the dye. In penetrating waves of boiling vats The snowy web is steep'd, with grain of weld, Fustic, or logwood, mix'd, or cochineal, Or the dark purple pulp of Pictish woad, Of stain tenacious, deep as summer skies,