Poems (Tynan)/The Sheepfold
THE SHEEPFOLD
The Shepherd of the sheepfold leant Upon his crook, and saw within The fold his milky ewes content, His white lambs innocent of sin.
The milky mothers giving suck He saw, and merry lambs at play; Yet, leaning on his shepherd's crook, His eyes, his heart, were turned away.
His tender thoughts were turned apart To where his orphaned lambs cried on; Their cries lay heavy on his heart— Poor milkless lambkins and undone.
With tears he saw the milky dams Go dropping milk upon the grass; These were the mothers of dead lambs, The mothers of dead lambs, alas!
O little lambs that would not live, Your milk runs all to bitter waste,Your milk that makes the Shepherd grieve, Runs out like tears so hot and fast.
O comfort, comfort then those sheep, Whose little lovely lambs are dead. The milk that makes the Shepherd weep Runs out like tears, and none is fed.