252 TJie Poets Beasts. 



" When Blouzelind expir'd, the wether's bell 

 Before the drooping flock toU'd forth her knell, 

 The solemn death-watch click'd the hour she dy'd, 

 And shrilling crickets in the chimney cry'd. 

 The boding raven on her cottage sate, 

 And with hoarse croak warn'd us of her fate ; 

 The lambkin, which her wonted tendance bred, 

 Dropp'd on the plains that fatal instant dead. 

 Swarm'd on a rotten stick the bees I spied, 

 Which erst I saw when Goody Dobson died."— Caj'. 



Certain noises are said to sicken the ewes ; shrew-mice in 

 the grass, newts in the water, are supposed to " blast " them. 

 The poets take due cognisance of these superstitions ; and 

 the fauns and fairies who avert such disasters are becomingly 

 admired. Of old-world fancies, Keats has beautifully pre- 

 served the following — 



" And it had gloomy shades, sequestered deep. 

 Where no man went ; and if from shepherd's keep 

 A lamb strayed far adown those inmost glens, 

 Never again saw he the happy pens 

 Whither his brethren, bleating with content, 

 Over the hills at every nightfall went. 

 Among the shepherds 'twas believed ever, 

 That not one fleecy lamb which thus did sever 

 From the white flock, but passed unworried 

 By any wolf, or pard with prying head. 

 Until it came to some unfooted plains 

 Where fed the herds of Pan : ay, great his gains 

 Who thus one lamb did lose." 



This beautiful legend of Pan — " Hearkener to the loud- 

 clapping shears " — and the fauns guarding the shepherd 

 and his sheep — the cloud-flocks of the divinities — of 

 Oceanus — the golden fleece of Colchos — 



" There was a shepe, as it was toUle, 

 Tiie whiche his flees bare all of golde. 

 And so the goddess had it sette, 

 That it ne might awaie be fette " {Gower) — 



