THE BOY AND THE SHEEP.

THE BOY AND THE SHEEP.

“Lazy sheep, pray tell me whyIn the pleasant field you lie,Eating grass and daisies white,From the morning till the night:Everything can something do;But what kind of use are you?”“Nay, my little master, nay;Do not serve me so, I pray!Don’t you see the wool that growsOn my back to make you clothes?Cold, ah, very cold you’d be,If you had not wool from me.“True, it seems a pleasant thingNipping daisies in the spring;But what chilly nights I passOn the cold and dewy grass,Or pick my scanty dinner whereAll the ground is brown and bare!“Then the farmer comes at last,When the merry spring is past;Cuts my wooly fleece away,For your coat in wintry day.Little master, this is whyIn the pleasant fields I lie.”

“Lazy sheep, pray tell me whyIn the pleasant field you lie,Eating grass and daisies white,From the morning till the night:Everything can something do;But what kind of use are you?”“Nay, my little master, nay;Do not serve me so, I pray!Don’t you see the wool that growsOn my back to make you clothes?Cold, ah, very cold you’d be,If you had not wool from me.“True, it seems a pleasant thingNipping daisies in the spring;But what chilly nights I passOn the cold and dewy grass,Or pick my scanty dinner whereAll the ground is brown and bare!“Then the farmer comes at last,When the merry spring is past;Cuts my wooly fleece away,For your coat in wintry day.Little master, this is whyIn the pleasant fields I lie.”

“Lazy sheep, pray tell me whyIn the pleasant field you lie,Eating grass and daisies white,From the morning till the night:Everything can something do;But what kind of use are you?”

“Lazy sheep, pray tell me why

In the pleasant field you lie,

Eating grass and daisies white,

From the morning till the night:

Everything can something do;

But what kind of use are you?”

“Nay, my little master, nay;Do not serve me so, I pray!Don’t you see the wool that growsOn my back to make you clothes?Cold, ah, very cold you’d be,If you had not wool from me.

“Nay, my little master, nay;

Do not serve me so, I pray!

Don’t you see the wool that grows

On my back to make you clothes?

Cold, ah, very cold you’d be,

If you had not wool from me.

“True, it seems a pleasant thingNipping daisies in the spring;But what chilly nights I passOn the cold and dewy grass,Or pick my scanty dinner whereAll the ground is brown and bare!

“True, it seems a pleasant thing

Nipping daisies in the spring;

But what chilly nights I pass

On the cold and dewy grass,

Or pick my scanty dinner where

All the ground is brown and bare!

“Then the farmer comes at last,When the merry spring is past;Cuts my wooly fleece away,For your coat in wintry day.Little master, this is whyIn the pleasant fields I lie.”

“Then the farmer comes at last,

When the merry spring is past;

Cuts my wooly fleece away,

For your coat in wintry day.

Little master, this is why

In the pleasant fields I lie.”

—Ann Taylor.


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