To Prendick Peak, and Alnham Moor, And all adjacent grounds; O’er Ingram Edge, I stretch’d my tour, To seek that spacious bounds: From Revely, Greenshaws, Hartside Hill, To Linhope Spout with speed; On Shillmoor Shank found strayers still, To Rawhope Rig recede. To Milkhope, Memmer Kirk, and Haigh, And Cushet Law I por’d; To Carlcroft, and Kidlandlea, Dryhope, and Usway Ford: The Maiden’s Cross, and Windy Gyle, And Cheviot’s skirts curv’d round; To Fleehope--but the front-rank file At Langlee Ford I found. Benighted, where these brutes did browse, Upon the border bent; I could not retrogade my ewes, Some couchant seem’d content: At the stock-farmer of that place, For lodgings did enquire, And there receiv’d a sweet solace, Next morning to retire. I ask’d both master and his men, For one a-wanting still; Who all declar’d they did not ken. Of stray sheep on their hill: Squads to collect I did remount, O’er hills and dales I cross’d; And that one short of my account, I then gave up for lost. [61] It is nothing particular for ewes, at their yeaning time, to stray: some have been known to travel an hundred miles to their native place to yean. The author remembers a ewe which had with others been sold to the southward, and was kept on the Haughs of the Humber, from which she strayed, and reaching Makendon, on the borders of Scotland, she travelling about twenty yards within her original pasture, there squatted and yeaned in half an hour. The owner of the ewe that travelled so far to yean upon her pristine spot, went the year following to buy another lot of the same sort, was asked how the last year’s stock proved, answered, _extraordinary well_, excepting one that disappeared, which he supposed to be stole. The stocksman said he was sorry for his loss, which however, he said, he would make good if they bargained for the present parcel. The bargain was made, and the seller turned an ewe and lamb, gratis, into the drove, explained the fact, and the poor ewe had to retread the ground she had twice before travelled over. SONG. _By J.C.--July 5th, 1810._ A fair reformation would render this nation, The richest isle under the sun; If terms now septennial were turn’d to triennial, The work would be more than half done. Our grand constitution defies diminution, While honest men handle the helm; But subject to slav’ry, and sanction’d by knav’ry, When ravagers rule in the realm. A few dying embers of Morpeth, two members Can send in the senate to sit: Shields, Alnwick, and Hexham (the truth tends to vex ’em) United, not one can transmit. One man of old Sarum, two members declare him; Thus burghs, and constituents wane: Some staple towns none, though Manchester alone, Near two hundred thousands contain.