The day's grown old, the fainting sun Has but a little way to run, And yet his steeds, with all his skill, Scarce lug the chariot down the hill. With labour spent, and thirst opprest, While they strain hard to gain the West, From fetlocks hot drops melted light, Which turns to meteors in the night. The shadows now so long do grow, That brambles like tall cedars show, Mole-hills seem mountains, and the ant Appears a monstrous elephant. A very little, little flock Shades thrice the ground that it would stock; Whilst the small stripling following them, Appears a mighty Polyphem. These being brought into the fold, And by the thrifty master told, He thinks his wages are well paid, Since none are either lost, or stray'd . . . Now lowing herds are each-where heard, Chains rattle in the villain's yard, The cart's on tail set down to rest, Bearing on high the Cuckold's crest. The hedge is stripped, the clothes brought in, Nought's left without should be within, The bees are hiv'd, and hum their charm, Whilst every house does seem a swarm. The cock now to the roost is prest; For he must call up all the rest; The sow's fast pegg'd within the sty, To still her squeaking progeny. Each one has had his supping mess, The cheese is put into the press, The pans and bowls clean scalded all, Rear'd up against the milk-house wall. And now on benches all are sat In the cool air to sit and chat, Till Phoebus, dipping in the West, Shall lead the world the way to rest. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE INDIAN WEED by RALPH ERSKINE THE BENCH OF BOORS by HERMAN MELVILLE WINDY NIGHTS by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON ODES: BOOK 2: ODE 10. TO THOMAS EDWARDS, ON ... POPE'S WORKS by MARK AKENSIDE EPISTLE TO DR. ENFIELD ON HIS REVISITING WARRINGTON IN 1789 by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE POWERFUL by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |