THE RIVER DUDDON
XXIII. SHEEP-WASHING
THE RIVER DUDDON
SAD thoughts, avaunt!–partake we their blithe cheer Who gathered in betimes the unshorn flock To wash the fleece, where haply bands of rock, Checking the stream, make a pool smooth and clear As this we look on. Distant Mountains hear, Hear and repeat, the turmoil that unites Clamour of boys with innocent despites Of barking dogs, and bleatings from strange fear. And what if Duddon’s spotless flood receive Unwelcome mixtures as the uncouth noise 10 Thickens, the pastoral River will forgive Such wrong; nor need ‘we’ blame the licensed joys, Though false to Nature’s quiet equipoise: Frank are the sports, the stains are fugitive.