Nibbl’d by the sheep


Short shrubby bushes nibbl'd by the sheep

That alway on these shortsward pastures keep
Now lost now shines now bending with the wind
& now the swarthy sybil kneels reclin'd
With proggling stick she still renews the blaze
Forcing bright sparks to twinkle from the flaze
When this I view the all attentive mind
Will oft exclaim (so strong the scene prevades)
‘Grant me this life, thou spirit of the shades!’

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