...
Now the first beams of morning glad the sight,
And all the air in solemn stillness holds,
Save when the sheep-dog bays with hoarse afright,
And brutal drovers pen the unwilling folds.
...
Beneath those ragged tents—that boarded shade,
Which late display’d its stores in tempting heaps:
There, children, dogs, cakes, oysters, all are laid,
There, guardian of the whole, the master sleeps.