Where freedoms damon used to keep
In peace and awe, his folks
Who fed, not fed upon, his sheep
There wolves and vultures now do prey
Herds are slain

The herds are slain, and kinships sway
Now reigns an artful foe
While mothers weep, a veiling trust
Lies present over all of the earth

The laurelled garland, which before
Encircled on his brow

The spotless robes which once he wore
And sheep-hooks which he used to sway
The pipe whereon he loved to play
Are seized on by the rabble
And must be used no more

Poor swain how thou’d laments to see
Thy flocks o’r ruled by those
That serve thy kinfolk all like thee
Just as they treated you

Where hateful vice usurps the crown
And loyalty is trodden down
Down crest and sceptre goes
When foxes now, the shepherds be