Around th' adjoining brook, that purls along <br />The vocal grove, now fretting o'er a rock, <br />Now scarcely moving through a reedy pool, <br />Now starting to a sudden stream, and now <br />Gently diffused into a limpid plain <br />A various group the herds and flocks compose. <br />Rural confusion! on the grassy bank <br />Some ruminating lie; while others stand <br />Half circling surface. In the middle droops <br />The strong laborious ox, of honest front, <br />Which incomposed he shakes; and from his sides <br />The troublous insects lashes with his tail, <br />Returning still. Amid his subjects safe, <br />Slumbers the monarch swain; his careless arm <br />Thrown round his head, on downy moss sustain'd; <br />Here laid his scrip, with wholesome viands fill'd; <br />There, listening every noise, his watchful dog. <br />Light fly his slumbers, if perchance a flight <br />Of angry gadflies fasten on the herd; <br />The startling scatters from the shallow brook, <br />In search of lavish stream. Tossing the foam, <br />They scorn the keeper's voice, and scour the plain, <br />Through all the bright severity of noon; <br />While, from their labouring breasts, a hollow moan <br />Proceeding, runs low-bellowing round the hills.<br /><br />James Thomson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cattle-in-summer/
