The Shepherd Beautiful

Summer and Autumn, one with golden
ear,
And one with apple red,
And shrivel’d Winter burning in a heap
Dead leaves —they pictured round
Thee ; for they said,
“ All the year round ’’ — and joyous tears
were shed —
“ All the year round, Thou, Shepherd,
lov’st Thy sheep.”

Sometimes they showed Thee piping in the
shade :
Music so sweet each mouth was raised
from grass
And ceased to hunger. In some dewy glade
Where the cool waters ran as clear as
glass,
To this or that one Thou would’st seem to
say,
“Thou ’st made me glad, be happy thou
in turn!’
And sometimes Thou would’st sit in
weariness —
My Shepherd! “ guaerens me

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