Page:The Poems of John Dyer (1903).djvu/75

Tempting the clothier ; that the hosier seeks ;
The long bright lock is apt for airy stuffs ;
But often it deceives the artist's care,
Breaking unuseful in the steely comb : 90
For this long spungy wool no more increase
Receives while winter petrifies the fields :
The growth of Autumn stops ; and what tho' Spring
Succeeds with rosy finger, and spins on
The texture ? yet in vain she strives to link 95
The silver twine to that of Autumn's hand.
Be then the swain advis'd to shield his flocks
From winter's dead'ning frosts and whelming snows ;
Let the loud tempest rattle on the roof,
While they, secure within, warm cribs enjoy, 100
And swell their Fleeces, equal to the worth
Of cloath'd Apulian, by soft warmth improv'd ;
Or let them inward heat and vigour find
By food of cole or turnip, hardy plants.
Besides, the lock of one continued growth 105
Imbibes a clearer and more equal dye.
But lightest wool is theirs who poorly toil
Thro' a dull round in unimproving farms
Of common fields. Inclose, inclose, ye Swains !
Why will you joy in common field, where pitch, 110
Noxious to wood, must stain your motley flock,
To mark your property ? the mark dilates,
Enters the flake depreciated, defil'd,
Unfit for beauteous tint. Besides, in fields
Promiscuous held all culture languishes ; 115
The glebe, exhausted, thin supply receives ;
Dull waters rest upon the rushy flats
And barren furrows : none the rising grove
There plants for late posterity, nor hedge
To shield the flock, nor copse for cheering fire ; 120
And in the distant village every hearth