Henry Erskine

“ And his rough face had seen a better day.
Around him, bleating, stray'd a scanty flock,
And a few goats o'erhung the neighbouring rock.
One faithful dog his sorrows seem'd to share,
And strove, with many a trick to ease his care. ”

“ Your streams that heal disease and soften pain;
" No streams, alas! can ever, ever flow,
" To heal your master's heart, or soothe his woe.
⁠" Feed on, my flocks, ye harmless people, feed,
" The worst that ye can suffer is to bleed. ”

“ I seek in foreign lands precarious bread;
" Forc'd, tho' my helpless age from guilt be pure,
" The pangs of banish'd felons to endure;
" And all because these hands have vainly try'd
" To force from art what nature has deny'd ”