V

Furious, incessant in the weeds and briers The sawing weed-bugs sing; and, heat-begot, The grasshoppers, so many strident wires, Staccato fiercely hot: A lash of whirling sound that never tires, The locust flails the noon, where harnessed Thirst, Beside the road-spring, many a shod hoof mires, Into the trough thrusts his hot head, immersed, 'Round which cool bubbles burst.