48
CLYDE;
Till, gorged at last, the gluttons loath the day,
And, self-entombed, their surfeit sleep away:
Their dull gross natures thus by death refine;
Thence burst to life, in brighter hues to shine;
At large through all the fields of ether scour,
On odours feast, or banquet on the flower. 260
But here, behold a wondrous scene displayed!
A mighty pomp of little creatures made!
For when the winds are hushed, serene the day,
On filmy wings the swarming insects play;
Some first in pools scarce moving, mud appear,
And after flutter through the fields of air;
And some in verdant leaves their eggs conceal,
Where tumours from the wound around them swell.
Of these, the gnats with speckled wings we find,
And crests adorned, a small but angry kind! 270
In living columns from the flood they rise,
With turbid motion, trembling to the skies;
With stings infixed, they plague the toiling swain,
Disturb his labours, and augment his pain.
See how their arms these sturdy mowers wield!
How smooth behind them shines the ravished field!
Swinging their formidable fcythes around,
Each sweep lays bare a mighty length of ground.
And, self-entombed, their surfeit sleep away:
Their dull gross natures thus by death refine;
Thence burst to life, in brighter hues to shine;
At large through all the fields of ether scour,
On odours feast, or banquet on the flower. 260
But here, behold a wondrous scene displayed!
A mighty pomp of little creatures made!
For when the winds are hushed, serene the day,
On filmy wings the swarming insects play;
Some first in pools scarce moving, mud appear,
And after flutter through the fields of air;
And some in verdant leaves their eggs conceal,
Where tumours from the wound around them swell.
Of these, the gnats with speckled wings we find,
And crests adorned, a small but angry kind! 270
In living columns from the flood they rise,
With turbid motion, trembling to the skies;
With stings infixed, they plague the toiling swain,
Disturb his labours, and augment his pain.
See how their arms these sturdy mowers wield!
How smooth behind them shines the ravished field!
Swinging their formidable fcythes around,
Each sweep lays bare a mighty length of ground.
