Poem September 25, 1902 Issue

The Singing Shepherd

Annie Fields

Harper's Magazine

The shepherd climbed the hill through dark and light;
And on and on he went,
Higher and higher still,
Seeking a pasture hidden in the height.
He followed by the rill,
He followed past the rocks;
And, as he went, singing, he shepherded his flocks.

How wide those upland pastures none e'er knew;
But over the wild hills
A stretch of watered grass,
Outspreading, though half hidden from the view,
Invites that all may pass.
He sees the weary way;
Yet, while the shepherd sings, how brief the toilsome day!

Stand thou with me, and watch his eager feet.
He stays not for the drought,
Nor lingers in the shade,
Save where the clover and the streamlet meet.
There, quiet, unafraid,
The tender lambs may feed,
While the calm moon gives rest to those who are in need.

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