The Shepherdess.

Shepherdess! Shepherdess!
    Looks to the sheep;
Shepherdess! Shepherdess!
    Watches their sleep.

Shepherdess! Shepherdess!
    When they cry "Baa,"
Shepherdess! Shepherdess!
    Knows where they are.

Richard Hunter

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Richard Hunter

Brownie.

Richard Hunter, Simple Poetry

Blue-Coat.

Richard Hunter, Simple Poetry

Smiler.

Richard Hunter, Simple Poetry

Dame Crump.

Richard Hunter, Simple Poetry

English

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The Shepherd

How sweet is the Shepherd's sweet lot!
From the morn to the evening he stays;
He shall follow his sheep all the day,
And his tongue shall be filled with praise.

For he hears the lambs' innocent call,
And he hears the ewes' tender reply;
He is watching while they are in peace,
For they know when their Shepherd is nigh.

William Blake

The Shepherd Lady.

I.

Who pipes upon the long green hill,
    Where meadow grass is deep?
The white lamb bleats but followeth on -
    Follow the clean white sheep.
The dear white lady in yon high tower,
    She hearkeneth in her sleep.

All in long grass the piper stands,
    Goodly and grave is he;
Outside the tower, at dawn of day,
    The notes of his pipe ring free.
A thought from his heart doth reach to hers:
    "Come down, O lady! to me."

She lifts her head, she dons her gown:
    Ah! the lady is fair;
She ties the girdle on her waist,
    And binds her flaxen hair,
And down she stealeth, down and down,
    Down the turret stair.

Behold him! With the flock he wons
    Along yon grassy lea.
"My shepherd lord, my shepherd lov...

Jean Ingelow

A Shepherd's Dream

A silly shepherd lately sat
    Among a flock of sheep;
Where musing long on this and that,
    At last he fell asleep.
And in the slumber as he lay,
    He gave a piteous groan;
He thought his sheep were run away,
    And he was left alone.
He whoop'd, he whistled, and he call'd,
    But not a sheep came near him;
Which made the shepherd sore appall'd
    To see that none would hear him.
But as the swain amazèd stood,
    In this most solemn vein,
Came Phyllida forth of the wood,
    And stood before the swain.
Whom when the shepherd did behold
    He straight began to weep,
And at the heart he grew a-cold,
    To think upon his sheep.
For well he knew, where came the queen,
    The shepherd durst not stay:
And where that he durs...

Nicholas Breton

The Shepherdess

She walks--the lady of my delight--
    A shepherdess of sheep.
Her flocks are thoughts. She keeps them white;
    She guards them from the steep.
She feeds them on the fragrant height,
    And folds them in for sleep.

She roams maternal hills and bright,
    Dark valleys safe and deep.
Into that tender breast at night
    The chastest stars may peep.
She walks--the lady of my delight--
    A shepherdess of sheep.

She holds her little thoughts in sight,
    Though gay they run and leap.
She is so circumspect and right;
    She has her soul to keep.
She walks--the lady of my delight--
    A shepherdess of sheep.

Alice Christiana Thompson Meynell

The Sheep

The Sheep adorns the landscape rural
And is both singular and plural,
It gives grammarians the creeps
To hear one say, A flock of sheeps.

The Sheep is gentle, meek and mild,
And led in herds by man or child,
Being less savage than the rabbit,
Sheep are gregarious by habit.

The Sheep grows wool and thus promotes
The making of vests, pants and coats,
Vests, pants and coats and woolen cloths
Provide good food for hungry moths.

With vegetables added to
The Sheep, we get our mutton stew,
Experiments long since revealed
The Sheep should first be killed and peeled.

Thus, with our debt to them so deep,
All men should cry Praise be for Sheep!
And, if we happen to be shepherds,
Praise be theyre not as fierce as leopards!

Ellis Parker Butler

The Shepherdess

She walks - the lady of my delight -
    A shepherdess of sheep.
Her flocks are thoughts. She keeps them white;
    She guards them from the steep.
She feeds them on the fragrant height,
    And folds them in for sleep.

She roams maternal hills and bright,
    Dark valleys safe and deep.
Into that tender breast at night
    The chastest stars may peep.
She walks - the lady of my delight -
    A shepherdess of sheep.

She holds her little thoughts in sight,
    Though gay they run and leap.
She is so circumspect and right;
    She has her soul to keep.
She walks - the lady of my delight -
    A shepherdess of sheep.

Alice Meynell