Skip to main content
Oft o'er the Moody Dome hoarse Ravens fly,
The Chatt'ring Mag-pye, and the Ribauld Crow;
Oft hungry Weazels shrike, and Padocks dye,
Thro' Famine, in th' unfurnish'd Vales below:
The Vales no vital Nourishment produce,
Scant is their Grass, and venom'd is its Juice.
Rate this poem
No votes yet