A POEM. 67 



Having now clos'd my Therapeutic strain, 

 A word or two on Diet, I would fain 

 Advance : always feed well these willing slaves ; 

 An equal part of barley meal and greaves, 

 I've ever found their strength and frame support, 

 When on excursion I've been out for sport ; 

 But when they've idle lain, I've then preferr'd 

 To let them only have of greaves, a third : 

 When each are scalded well, combin'd they make 

 A savory mess : the dogs will glad partake 

 When the Sun sets ; the day's work being done, 

 Give them their dinners, 'fore you take your own ; 

 For the poor brutes no breakfast had, nor will, 

 Till morrow's ev'n, again their bellies fill ; 

 This done, their weary bodies they will yield 

 To strength-restoring sleep, till call'd to field : 

 No pleasure could you feel, I'm sure, in dining, 

 To know while you were eating, they were w(h)ining. 



When out of season, neither fat nor lean 

 They out to be, but in the case between : 



