The Ox looks up and snuffs the coming showers,
E'er yet with pregnant clouds the welkin lowers:
Dragging from vaulted cave their eggs to view
Th' industrious Ants their ceaseless toil pursue;
While numerous insects creep along the wall,
And through the grass the slimy earth-worms crawl,
The black earth's entrails men these reptiles call.
Cackles the Hen, as sounds the dripping rill,
Combing her plumage with her crooked bill. 260
When flocks of Rooks or Daws in clouds arise,
Deafening the welkin with discordant cries;
When from their throats a gurgling note they strain,
And imitate big drops of falling rain;
When the Tame Duck her outstretch'd pinion shakes;
When the shrill screaming Hern the ocean seeks:
All these prognostics to the wise declare
Pregnant with rain, though now serene, the air.
When keen the Flies—a plague to man and
beast—
Seek with proboscis sharp their bloody feast; 270
When in the wearisome dark wintry night
The flickering torches burn with sputtering light,
Now flaring far and wide—now sinking low—
While round their wicks the fungous tumours grow;
When on the hearth the burning Ember glows,
And numerous sparks around the Charcoal throws:
