John Cunningham

The Sheep And The Bramble-Bush

A Thick-Twisted brake, in the time of a storm,
Seem'd kindly to cover a sheep:
So snug, for a while, he lay shelter'd and warm,
It quietly sooth'd him asleep.

The clouds are now scatter'd--the winds are at peace,
The sheep to his pasture inclin'd;
But ah! the fell thicket lays hold of his fleece,
His coat is left forfeit behind.

My friend, who the thicket of law never try'd,
Consider before you get in;
Tho' judgment and sentence are pass'd on your side,
By Jove, you'll be fleec'd to your skin.



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