Yonder behold a little purling rill,
Sweet flowing down the green, enamelled hill:
This aqueduct proceeds from Morrit's drains,
And well compensates his ingenious pains.
The rotten ground, which trembled as we trod,
Is now released from the exuberant load
Of chilly waters, that the grass deprive
Of its nutritious particles, and drive,
With moist, diluting qualities, away
The salts impregnating the foodful hay.
Where the dejected sheep all bleating stood,
Benumbed with chilly damps, and starved for food,
Behold firm land appear, with wholesome grass;
The cattle's looks proclaim it as we pass;
Death, which so oft in tainted rots appeared,
Is by the farmer now no longer feared.
This plan would each landholder but pursue,
England a paradise we then might view:
Not then would her own sons, like exiles, seek
More lands to till beyond the foaming deep.
Lovers of agriculture all might here
Employment find throughout the circling year,
Since convenient are all seasons found
To drain off waters from the spongy ground.
The model of the drains prepare to sing,
O Sylvan Muse! Find out the hidden spring
Where bubbling waters rise, then with a spade
Let a broad trench, three feet in depth, be made;
Observe that with descent your conduit run,
Whether to the rising or the setting sun;
Let it in breadth about a foot extend,
And with a wall you must its sides defend;
This wall in height at least must be a foot,
And over the canal be sure to put
Large shelvy stones — the wall will them sustain;
With ling or straw then cover it again;
And careful stop each little hole or chink,
Lest through these the mouldering earth should sink,
Which oft the water's rapid course impedes.
But when th' earth is fixed, there no longer needs
Aught, save the stones, to bear it off the rills,
Which now the springing water quickly fills;
Every lesser duct must have its course
Into a larger one, which adds its force
To drive redundant fluids off the land,
Which, like a deluge, once were used to stand:
When this is done, it only now remains
With their own earth to cover up the drains. . . .
Sweet flowing down the green, enamelled hill:
This aqueduct proceeds from Morrit's drains,
And well compensates his ingenious pains.
The rotten ground, which trembled as we trod,
Is now released from the exuberant load
Of chilly waters, that the grass deprive
Of its nutritious particles, and drive,
With moist, diluting qualities, away
The salts impregnating the foodful hay.
Where the dejected sheep all bleating stood,
Benumbed with chilly damps, and starved for food,
Behold firm land appear, with wholesome grass;
The cattle's looks proclaim it as we pass;
Death, which so oft in tainted rots appeared,
Is by the farmer now no longer feared.
This plan would each landholder but pursue,
England a paradise we then might view:
Not then would her own sons, like exiles, seek
More lands to till beyond the foaming deep.
Lovers of agriculture all might here
Employment find throughout the circling year,
Since convenient are all seasons found
To drain off waters from the spongy ground.
The model of the drains prepare to sing,
O Sylvan Muse! Find out the hidden spring
Where bubbling waters rise, then with a spade
Let a broad trench, three feet in depth, be made;
Observe that with descent your conduit run,
Whether to the rising or the setting sun;
Let it in breadth about a foot extend,
And with a wall you must its sides defend;
This wall in height at least must be a foot,
And over the canal be sure to put
Large shelvy stones — the wall will them sustain;
With ling or straw then cover it again;
And careful stop each little hole or chink,
Lest through these the mouldering earth should sink,
Which oft the water's rapid course impedes.
But when th' earth is fixed, there no longer needs
Aught, save the stones, to bear it off the rills,
Which now the springing water quickly fills;
Every lesser duct must have its course
Into a larger one, which adds its force
To drive redundant fluids off the land,
Which, like a deluge, once were used to stand:
When this is done, it only now remains
With their own earth to cover up the drains. . . .