'Twill serve to shift them to a dryer turf, And salt again. Th' utility of salt

Teach thy slow swains: redundant humours cold Are the diseases of the bleating kind.

Th' infectious scab, arising from extremes 285 Of want or surfeit, is by water cur'd Of lime, or sodden stave-acre, or oil Dispersive of Norwegian tar, renown'd By virtuous Berkeley, whose benevolence. Explor'd its pow'rs, and easy med'cine thence 290 Sought for the poor. Ye poor! with grateful voice Invoke eternal blessings on his head.

300

Sheep also pleurisies and dropsies know, Driv'n oft' from Nature's path by artful man, Who blindly turns aside, with haughty hand, 295 Whem sacred instinct would securely lead. But thou, more humble swain! thy rural gates Frequent unbar, and let thy flocks abroad From lea to croft, from mead to arid field, Noting the fickle seasons of the sky. Rain-sated pastures let them shun, and seek Changes of herbage and salubrious flowers. By their All-perfect Master inly taught, They best their food and physic can discern; For he, Supreme Existence! ever near, Informs them. O'er the vivid green observe With what a regular consent they crop, At every fourth collection to the mouth, Unsav'ry crow-flow'r; whether to awake

305

Or timely to repel approaching ills,

Hard to determine. Thou, whom Nature loves,
And with her salutary rules intrusts,

Benevolent Mackenzie *! say the cause.

This truth howe'er shines bright to human sense:
Each strong affection of th' unconscious brute, 316
Each bent, each passion of the smallest mite,
Is wisely giv'n: harmonious they perform
The work of perfect reason, (blush, vain Man!)
And turn the wheels of Nature's vast machine. 320
See that thy scrip have store of healing tar,
And marking pitch and raddle; nor forget
Thy shears true pointed, nor th' officious dog,
Faithful to teach thy stragglers to return;
So may'st thou aid who lag along, or steal
Aside into the furrows or the shades,
Silent to droop; or who at ev'ry gate
Or hillock rub their sores and loosen'd wool.
But rather these, the feeble of thy flock,

325

Banish before th' autumnal months. Ev'n age 330
Forbear too much to favour: oft renew,

And thro' thy fold let joyous youth appear.
Beware the season of imperial Love,
Who thro' the world his ardent spirit pours;
Ev'n sheep are then intrepid! the proud ram
With jealous eye surveys the spacious field:
All rivals keep aloof, or desp'rate war
Suddenly rages; with impetuous force,
And fury irresistibie, they dash

335

"Twill serve to shift them to a dryer turf, And salt again. Th' utility of salt

Teach thy slow swains: redundant humours cold Are the diseases of the bleating kind.

Th' infectious scab, arising from extremes 285 Of want or surfeit, is by water cur'd Of lime, or sodden stave-acre, or oil Dispersive of Norwegian tar, renown'd By virtuous Berkeley, whose benevolence. Explor'd its pow'rs, and easy med'cine thence 290 Sought for the poor. Ye poor! with grateful voice Invoke eternal blessings on his head.

300

Sheep also pleurisies and dropsies know, Driv'n oft' from Nature's path by artful man, Who blindly turns aside, with haughty hand, 295 Whem sacred instinct would securely lead. But thou, more humble swain! thy rural gates Frequent unbar, and let thy flocks abroad From lea to croft, from mead to arid field, Noting the fickle seasons of the sky. Rain-sated pastures let them shun, and seek Changes of herbage and salubrious flowers. By their All-perfect Master inly taught, They best their food and physic can discern ; For he, Supreme Existence! ever near, Informs them. O'er the vivid green observe With what a regular consent they crop, At every fourth collection to the mouth, Unsav'ry crow-flow'r; whether to awake

305

Or timely to repel approaching ills,

Hard to determine. Thou, whom Nature loves,
And with her salutary rules intrusts,
Benevolent Mackenzie *! say the cause.

This truth howe'er shines bright to human sense:
Each strong affection of th' unconscious brute, 316
Each bent, each passion of the smallest mite,
Is wisely giv'n: harmonious they perform
The work of perfect reason, (blush, vain Man!)
And turn the wheels of Nature's vast machine. 320
See that thy scrip have store of healing tar,
And marking pitch and raddle; nor forget
Thy shears true pointed, nor th' officious dog,
Faithful to teach thy stragglers to return;
So may'st thou aid who lag along, or steal
Aside into the furrows or the shades,
Silent to droop; or who at ev'ry gate
Or hillock rub their sores and loosen'd wool.
But rather these, the feeble of thy flock,

325

Banish before th' autumnal months. Ev'n age 330
Forbear too much to favour: oft renew,
And thro' thy fold let joyous youth appear.
Beware the season of imperial Love,
Who thro' the world his ardent spirit pours;
Ev'n sheep are then intrepid! the proud ram
With jealous eye surveys the spacious field:
All rivals keep aloof, or desp'rate war
Suddenly rages; with impetuous force,
And fury irresistibie, they dash

335

Their hardy frontlets; the wide vale resounds: 340
The flock, amaz'd, stands safe afar; and oft'
Each to the other's might a victim falls;
As fell of old, before that engine's sway,
Which hence ambition imitative wrought,
The beauteous tow'rs of Salem to the dust.

345

Wise custom at the fifth or sixth return,
Or ere they've past the twelfth of orient morn,
Castrates the lambkins; necessary rite,
Ere they be number'd of the peaceful herd.

349

But kindly watch whom thy sharp hand has griev'd, In those rough months that lift the turning year: Not tedious is the office; to thy aid

355

Favonius hastens; soon their wounds he heals,
And leads them skipping to the flow'rs of May;
May! who allows to fold, if poor the tilth,
Like that of dreary houseless common fields,
Worn by the plough; but fold on fallows dry.
Enfeeble not thy flock to feed thy land,
Nor in too narrow bounds the pris'ners crowd;
Nor ope the wattled fence while balmy Morn 360
Lies on the reeking pasture : wait till all

The crystal dews, impearl'd upon the grass,
Are touch'd by Phoebus' beams, and mount aloft,
With various clouds to paint the azure sky.

In teasing fly-time, dank or frosty days, 365
With unctuous liquids, or the lees of oil,
Rub their soft skins between the parted locks:
Thus the Brigantes : 'tis not idle pains :