40
THE SHEEPHERDER
One sheep, two sheep, three sheep, four . . .
Fifty and sixty . . . seventy more;
There's not in this flock a good bell-wether!
Then how can a herder hold it together!
Fifty and sixty . . . seventy more;
There's not in this flock a good bell-wether!
Then how can a herder hold it together!
Seeking to cheer him in his plight,
I flung my blankets down for the night;
But he wouldn't talk as we sat by the fire—
Coralling sheep was his sole desire;
With fingers that pointed near and far,
Mumbling, he herded star by star:
I flung my blankets down for the night;
But he wouldn't talk as we sat by the fire—
Coralling sheep was his sole desire;
With fingers that pointed near and far,
Mumbling, he herded star by star:
One sheep, two sheep, three—as before!
Eighty and ninety . . . a thousand more!
My lost little lambs—one thousand seven!—
Are wandering over the hills of Heaven.
Eighty and ninety . . . a thousand more!
My lost little lambs—one thousand seven!—
Are wandering over the hills of Heaven.
