The distant hills are looking nigh;
Hark, how the chairs and tables crack!
Old Betty’s joints are on the rack;
And see yon rooks, how odd their flight,
They imitate the gliding kite,
Or seem precipitate to fall
As if they felt the piercing ball;
How restless are the snorting swine!
The busy flies disturb the kine;
Low o’er the grass the swallow wings;