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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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