Classic Poem

Wait the returning pail. The rosy maid,
Crouching beneath their side, in copious streams
Exhaust the swelling udder. Vessels large
And broad, by the sweet hand of neatness clean'd.
Meanwhile, in decent order rang'd, appear
The milky treasure, strain'd through filtering lawn,
Intended to receive. At early day,
Sweet slumber shaken from her opening lids,
My lovely Patty to her dairy hies:
There from the surface of expanded bowls
She skims the floating cream, and to her churn
Commits the rich consistence; nor disdains,
Though soft her hand, though delicate her frame,
To urge the rural toil; fond to obtain
The country-housewife's name and praise.
Continu'd agitation separates soon
The unctuous particles; with gentler strokes,
And artful, soon they coalesee; at length,
Cool water pouring from the limpid spring
Into a smooth glaz'd vessel, deep and wide,
She gathers the loose fragments to an heap;
Which in the cleansing wave well wrought, and press'd
To one consistent golden mass, receives
The sprinkled seasoning, and of parts, or pounds,
The fair impression, the neat shape assumes.
Is cheese her care? Warm from the teat she pours
The milky flood. An acid juice infus'd,
From the dry'd stomach drawn of suckling calf,
Coagulates the whole. Immediate now
Her spreading hands bear down the gathering curd,
Which hard and harder grows; till, clear and thin,
The green whey rises separate. Happy swains!
Oh how I envy ye the luscious draught,
The soft salubrious beverage! To a vat,
The size and fashion which her taste approves,
She bears the snow-white heaps, her future cheese;
And the strong press establishes its form.
But nicer cates, her dairy's boasted fare,
The jelly'd cream, or custard, daintiest food,
Or cheesecake, or the cooling syllabub,
For Thyrfis she prepares; who from the field,
Returning, with the kiss of love sincere,
Salutes her rosy lip. A tender look,
Meantime, and cheerful smiles, his welcome speak:
Down to their frugal board contentment sits,
And calls it seasting. Prattling infants dear
Engage their fond regard, and closer tie
The band of nuptial love. They, happy, feel
Each other's bliss, and both in different spheres
Employ'd, nor seek nor wish that cheating charm,
Variety, which idlers to their aid
Call in, to make the length of lazy life
Drag on less heavily. Domestic cares,
Her children and her dairy, well divide
Th' appropriated hours, and duty makes
Employment pleasure. He, delighted, gives
Each busy season of the rolling year,
To raise, to feed, t' improve the generous horse;
And fit for various use his strength of speed.
Dull, patient, heavy, of large limbs, robust,
Whom neither beauty marks, nor spirits fire:
Him, to the servile toil of dragging flow
The burden'd carriage, or to drudge beneath
A ponderous load impos'd, his justice dooms.
Yet, straining in the enormous cars which crowd
Thy bustling streets, Augusta, queen of trade,
What noble beasts are seen? sweating beneath
Their toil, and tremble at the driver's whip,
Urg'd with malicious fury on the parts
Where feeling lives most sensible of pain.
Fell tyrants, hold! forbear your hell-born rage!
See ye not every sinew, every nerve
Stretch'd e'en to bursting? Villains! — but the muse
Quick from the savage russians turns her eye,
Frowning indignant. Steeds of hardier kind,
And cool though sprightly, to the travell'd road
He destines; sure of foot, of steady pace,
Active, and persevering, uncompell'd,
The tedious length of many a beaten mile.
But not alone to these inferior tribes
Th' ambitious swain confines his generous breed.
Hark! in his fields, when now the distant sounds
Of winding horns, and dogs, and hunt smen's shout,
Awake the sense, his kindling hunter neighs,
Quick start his ears erect, his beating heart
Exults, his light limbs bound, he bears aloft,
Rais'd by tumultuous joy, his tossing head;
And all impatient for the well-known sport,
Leaps the tall fence, and listening to the cry,
Pursues with voluntary speed the chase.
See! o'er the plain he sweeps, nor hedge nor ditch
Obstructs his eager flight; nor straining hills,
Nor headlong steeps deter the vigorous steed:
Till join'd at length, associate of the sport,
He mingles with the train, stops as they stop,
Pursues as they pursue, and all the wild
Enlivening raptures of the field enjoys.
Easy in motion, perfect in his form,
His boasted lineage drawn from steeds of blood,
He the fleet courser too, exulting shows,
And points with pride his beauties. Neatly set
His lively head, and glowing in his eye
True spirit lives. His nostril wide, inhales
With ease the ambient air. His body firm
And round, upright his joints, his horny hoofs
Small, shining, light; and large his ample reach.
His limbs, though slender, brac'd with sinewy strength,
Declare his winged speed. His temper mild,
Yet high his mettled heart. Hence in the race
All emulous, he hears the clashing whips;
He feels the animating shouts; exerts
With eagerness his utmost powers; and strains,
And springs, and flies, to reach the destin'd goal.
But, lo! the boast, the glory of his stalls,
His warrior steed appears. What comely pride,
What dignity, what grace, attend on all
His motions? See! exulting in his strength,
He paws the ground impatient. On his brow
Courage enthroned sits, and animates
His fearless eye. He bends his arched crest,
His mane loose-flowing, ruffles in the wind,
Clothing his chest with sury. Proud, he shorts,
Champs on the foaming bit, and prancing high,
Disdainful seems to tread the sordid earth.
Yet hears he and obeys his master voice,
All gentleness: and feels, with conscious pride,
His dappled neck clapp'd with a cheering hand.
But when the battle's martial sounds invade
His ear, when drums and trumpets loud proclaim
The rushing onset; when thick smoke, when fire,
Burst thundering from the cannon's awful mouth;
Then all inspir'd he kindles into flame!
Intrepid, neighs aloud; and, panting, seems
Impatient to express his swelling joys
Unutterable. On danger's brink he stands,
And mocks at fear. Then springing with delight,
Plunges into the wild confusion. Terror flies
Before his dreadful front; and in his rear
Destruction marks her bloody progress. Such,
Such was the steed thou, Cumberland, bestrod'st,
When black rebellion fell beneath thy hand,
Rome and her papal tyranny subdu'd,
On great Culloden's memorable field.
Such thine, unconquer'd Marlborough, when the throne
Of Lewis totter'd, and thy glittering steel
On Blenheim's plain immortal trophies reap'd.
And such, O prince! great patron of my theme,
Should e'er insidious France again presume
On Europe's freedom, such, though all averse
To slaughtering war, thy country shall present
To bear her hero to the martial plain,
Arm'd with the sword of justice. Other cause
Ne'er shall ambition's sophistry persuade
Thine honour to espouse. Britannia's peace;
Her sacred rights; her just, her equal laws:
These, these alone, to cherish or desend,
Shall raise thy youthful arm, and wake to war,
To dreadful war, the British lion's rage.
But milder stars on thy illustrious birth
Their kindest influence shed. Beneath the smile
Of thy indulgence, the protected arts
Lifting their graceful heads; her envy'd sail
Fair commerce spreading to remotest climes;
And plenty rising from th' encourag'd plough;
Shall seed, enrich, adorn, the happy land.