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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416322" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sheep-Sheering</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">In one diffusive band,<br>They drive the troubled flocks, by many a dog<br>Compell'd to where the mazy-running brook<br>Forms a deep pool; this bank abrupt and high,<br>And that fair-spreading in a pebbled shore,<br>Urged to the giddy brink, much is the toil,<br>The clamour much, of men, and boys, and dogs,<br>Ere the soft fearful people to the flood<br>Commit their woolly sides. And oft the swain,<br>On some impatient seizing, hurls them in:<br>Embolden'd, then, nor hesitating more,<br>Fast, fast they plunge amid the flashing wave,<br>And, panting, labour to the farther shore.<br>Repeated this, till deep the well-wash'd fleece<br>Has drunk the flood, and from his lively haunt<br>The trout is banish'd by the sordid stream;<br>Heavy and dripping, to the breezy brow<br>Slow move the harmless race: where, as they spread<br>Inly disturbed, and wondering what this wild<br>Outrageous tumult means, their loud complaints<br>The coutry fill; and, toss'd from rock to rock,<br>Incessant bleatings run around the hills.<br>At last, of snowy white, the gather'd flocks<br>Are in the wattled pen innumerous press'd,<br>Head above head: and, ranged in lusty rows,<br>The shepherds sit, and whet the sounding shears,<br>The housewife waits to roll her fleecy stores,<br>With all her gay-dress'd maids attending round.<br>One chief, in gracious dignity enthroned,<br>Shines o'er the rest, the pastoral queen, and rays<br>Her smiles, sweet-beaming, on her shepherd-king:<br>While the glad circle round them yield their souls<br>To festive mirth, and wit that knows no gall. <br>Meantime their joyous task goes on apace;<br>Some, mingling stir the melted tar, and some,<br>Deep on the new-shorn vagrant's heaving side,<br>To stamp the master's cipher ready stand;<br>Others th' unwilling wether drag along; <br>And, glorying in his might, the sturdy boy<br>Holds by the twisted horns the indignant ram.<br>Behold where bound, and of its robe bereft<br>By needy man, that all-depending lord,<br>How meek, how patient, the mild creature lies! <br>What softness in its melancholy face,<br>What dumb complaining innocence appears!<br>Fear not, ye gentle tribes, 'tis not the knife<br>Of horrid slaughter that is o'er you waved;<br>No, 'tis the tender swain's well-guided shears,<br>Who having now, to pay his annual care,<br>Borrow'd your fleece, to you a cumbrous load,<br>Will send you bounding to your hills again.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=James+Thomson">James Thomson</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416322" data-title="Sheep-Sheering de James Thomson" data-description="In one diffusive band,
They drive the troubled flocks, by many a dog
Compell'd to where the mazy-running brook
Forms a deep pool; this bank abrupt and high,
And that fair-spreading in a pebbled shore,
Urged to the giddy brink, much is the toil,
Th..."></div>
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