t,
Though each your welfare swore he sought;
Flock-herding elves,
What can this bickering have brought
Between themselves?
O, earnest JOHN and jocund JOE,
How could two Shepherds shindy so.
Old Light and New Light, _con._ and _pro_?
Now dash my buttons!
A squabbling pastor is a foe
To all poor muttons.
O Sirs, whoe'er would have expected
That crook and pipe you'd have neglected,
By foolish love of fight infected
Concerning food?
As though the sheep would have rejected
Aught that is good!
What herd like JOSEPH could prevail?
His voice was heard o'er hill and dale;
He knew each sheep from head to tail
In vale or height,
And told whether 'twas sick or hale
At the first sight.
But JOE had a new-fangled plan
For feeding ancient sheep. The man
Posed as a true Arcadian,
With a great gift
For zeal humanitarian,
Combined with thrift.
But JOHN replied, "Pooh-pooh! Your scheme
Is but an optimistic dream,
Whose 'shadowy incentives' seem
The merest spooks.
Better the ancient plans, I deem,
Food, folds, and crooks.
"You do not grapple with the case
Of poorest sheep, a numerous race.
As to the black ones, with what face
Claim care for such?
'Tis hungry old sheep of good race
_My_ feelings touch.
"Your scheme will cost no end--and fail.
No sheep who ever twitched a tail
So foolish is--I would not rail!--
As _such_ a 'herd.'
I'd 'modest operations' hail,
But yours?--absurd!
"Better reform, relax, extend
The old provisions. I commend
Plenty of food, and care no end,
For all poor sheep;
But flocks would not _get_ poor, my friend,
_Had they good keep!_"
Fancy how JOE would cock a nose
At "Cockney JOHN," as certain foes
Called JOSEPH's rival. Words like those
Part Shepherd swains.
Sad when crook-wielders meet as foes
On pastoral plains!
Such two! O, do I live to see
Such famous pastors disagree,
Calling each other--woe is me!--
Bad names by turns?
Shall we not say in diction free
With BOBBIE BURNS?
"O! a' ye flocks, owre a' the hills
By mosses, meadows, moors and fells.
Come join your counsels and your skills
To cowe the lairds.
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