Winter Evening. 
By Clare, John.

The crib-stock fothered, horses suppered-up
And cows in sheds all littered-down in straw
The threshers gone, the owls are left to whoop
The ducks go waddling with distended craw
Through little hole made in the henroost door
And geese with idle gabble never o'er
Bate careless hog untill he tumbles down
Insult provoking spite to noise the more
While fowl high-perched blink with contemptuous frown
On all the noise and bother heard below
Over the stable ridge in crowds the crow
With jackdaws intermixed known by their noise
To the warm woods behind the village go
And whistling home for bed go weary boys