So the meek Lama, lur'd by some decoy Of man, from all his unembitter'd joy; Ere while, as free as roves the wand'ring breeze, 45 Meets the hard burden on his bending knees[A]; O'er rocks, and mountains, dark, and waste he goes, Nor shuns the path where no soft herbage grows; Till worn with toil, on earth he prostrate lies, Heeds not the barb'rous lash, but patient dies.

" "'Tis yours," with accents mild the Genius cried, Streams, as he speaks, o'er all the meadows glide, A fresher green the fragrant shrubs display, And every leaf in trembling cheers the day; Slaking their raging thirst, the flocks are seen, And new-born herbage clothes the earth in green.

A skylark hung In mid-air flutt'ring, and sung A lullaby that grew more sweet Amid the stillness, in the heat And splendour of the sun: the lisp Of faint wind in the herbage crisp Went past them; and around the bare And foam-striped sand-banks gleaming fair, The faintly-panting waves were cast By the wan deep fatigued and vast.

Some freshly-shorn sheep, led by a ragged child, cropped the short herbage fragrant with strong herbs.

But before His herds, though they be myriad, yonder glades That belt the broad lake round lie fresh and fair For ever: for the low-lying meadows take The dew, and teem with herbage honeysweet, To lend new vigour to the hornèd kine.

"From the shrubs we held the camels; for I felt that life of man, Breaking to new forms of being, through that tender herbage ran.