[Blind mouths]! that scarce themselves know how to hold
A sheep-hook, or have learnt aught else the least 120
That to the faithful herdman’s art belongs!
[What recks it them?] What need they? They are sped;
And, when they list, [their lean and flashy songs]
Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw;
[The hungry sheep] look up, and are not fed, 125
But swoln with wind and the rank mist they draw,
Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread;
Besides what [the grim wolf with privy paw]