 | The Poems of Robert Bloomfield |  |
Sir Ambrose cast his eye along the line,
Where many a cheerful face began to shine,
And, fixing on his man, cried, loud and clear,
“What have you brought, John Armstrong? let us hear.”
Forth stepp'd his shepherd;—scanty locks of gray
Edged round a hat that seem'd to mock decay;
Its loops, its bands, were from the purest fleece,
Spun on the hills in silence and in peace.
Where many a cheerful face began to shine,
And, fixing on his man, cried, loud and clear,
“What have you brought, John Armstrong? let us hear.”
Forth stepp'd his shepherd;—scanty locks of gray
Edged round a hat that seem'd to mock decay;
Its loops, its bands, were from the purest fleece,
Spun on the hills in silence and in peace.
| The Poems of Robert Bloomfield | |