2 88 The Poets Beasts. 



Through his faire hide his angrie sting did threaten, 

 And vext so sore, that all his goodly feature 

 And all his plenteous pasture nought him pleased : 

 So by the small the great is oft diseased." 



Next Autumn with its cattle "conscious of storms," "and 

 huddling side by side, in closest ambush seek to hide," 

 Winter with its " miry herds " or " kine in stalls." 



Winter is, indeed, a season of horrors for the poets' herds. 

 In the morning — 



" Driven from their stalls to take the air, 

 How stupidly they stare ! and feel how strange ! 

 They open wide their smoking mouths to low, 

 But scarcely can their feeble sound be heard ; 

 Then turn and lick themselves, and step by step 

 Move, dull and heavy, to their stalls again." — y. Baillie. 



This is bad enough, but it is much worse sometimes. 

 They go afield, but there " in icy garments mourn, and wildly 

 murmur for the spring's return " (Crabbe). They then return 

 " from the untasted fields," and " wail their wonted fodder, 

 not, like hungering man, fretful if unsupplied, but silent, 

 meek" (Cowper), while "drooping the labourer-ox, stands 

 covered o'er with snow, and then demands the fruit of all his 

 toil" (Thomson). After this the end cannot be far — 



"The grazing ox lows to the gelid skies, 

 Walks o'er the marble meads with witli'ring eyes ; 

 Walks o'er tlie solid lakes, snuffs up the wind, and dies." 



The seasons, again, could be divided off almost into 

 months — so punctually are the changes in cattle-life noted ; 

 while the different periods of the day have each of them 

 their herds characteristic of the hour and in keeping with 

 the weather. 



The cool air of the dewy morning, the still heat of noon, 

 the languor of the afternoon, the quiet of evening — are all 

 marked off by their special cattle features ; and rainy 



