The young disease with milder rage began,
Seized on birds and beasts, approaching man;
The labouring oxen fall before the plough—
The ploughmen wonder, stare, can’t imagine how;
The tabid sheep, with sickly bleatings pine,
Their wool decreasing as their strength decline;
The warlike steeds, by inward foes compell’d,
Neglect their honours and desert the field;
Enerved and languid, seek a base retreat,
And at the mangers groan, but wish’d a nobler fate.