Flashed in and out the forests’ sheltering,
While clamorous council held the crickets’ throng.
Swift fell the grass beneath the mower’s stroke
To win its perfect ripeness ‘ere day’s end,
When should, the harvest bearing, meekly bend
The mild-eyed oxen ‘neath the unwieldy yoke.
Broken with sound was even the noonday rest—
Shrill-piping locust called imperiously,
Impetuous bee proclaimed its industry,
And blue-mailed flies pursued an endless quest;