ON THE MEDITERRANEAN.
TO-DAY my lover lends his flocks;He roams with them through fragrant meads,And guides across the barren rocks;With his own hands the lambs he feeds,And soothes them when the winds are coldOr terror comes among the fold.They soon forget the night’s alarmsWhen folded in his shielding arms.So good and true to them is heI know he will be kind to me.My lover walks in paths of peace,He would avoid the conflict’s noiseAnd bid the warring legions cease,He is content with simple joys;He fain would always journey throughTall grasses shining in the dewAnd tend his sheep and dream his dreamsBeside the quiet mountain streams;So faithful is his love of homeHis heart I know can never roam.THE SHEPHERD’S SONG.As fair as the flocks that grazeThere ’gainst the hill’s restful side;As sweet as the breath of nightWhen across dim flowery waysPours a mellifluous tide,Winging an odorous flight:Thus is the maiden who sendsSongs to the shepherd who tendsSheep by the streams, and who diesIn the delight of her eyes.Down by the shore in the nightRush the great breakers, nor ceaseOft till the dawn lights the crest;And so is love in its might,Stirring my soul from its peace,Leaving the shepherd no rest.Oh, if the sheep could but learnFor me the answer I yearn!Come, my fair flock, we shall seeWhat is the answer for me!
TO-DAY my lover lends his flocks;He roams with them through fragrant meads,And guides across the barren rocks;With his own hands the lambs he feeds,And soothes them when the winds are coldOr terror comes among the fold.They soon forget the night’s alarmsWhen folded in his shielding arms.So good and true to them is heI know he will be kind to me.My lover walks in paths of peace,He would avoid the conflict’s noiseAnd bid the warring legions cease,He is content with simple joys;He fain would always journey throughTall grasses shining in the dewAnd tend his sheep and dream his dreamsBeside the quiet mountain streams;So faithful is his love of homeHis heart I know can never roam.THE SHEPHERD’S SONG.As fair as the flocks that grazeThere ’gainst the hill’s restful side;As sweet as the breath of nightWhen across dim flowery waysPours a mellifluous tide,Winging an odorous flight:Thus is the maiden who sendsSongs to the shepherd who tendsSheep by the streams, and who diesIn the delight of her eyes.Down by the shore in the nightRush the great breakers, nor ceaseOft till the dawn lights the crest;And so is love in its might,Stirring my soul from its peace,Leaving the shepherd no rest.Oh, if the sheep could but learnFor me the answer I yearn!Come, my fair flock, we shall seeWhat is the answer for me!
TO-DAY my lover lends his flocks;He roams with them through fragrant meads,And guides across the barren rocks;With his own hands the lambs he feeds,And soothes them when the winds are coldOr terror comes among the fold.They soon forget the night’s alarmsWhen folded in his shielding arms.
TO-DAY my lover lends his flocks;
He roams with them through fragrant meads,
And guides across the barren rocks;
With his own hands the lambs he feeds,
And soothes them when the winds are cold
Or terror comes among the fold.
They soon forget the night’s alarms
When folded in his shielding arms.
So good and true to them is heI know he will be kind to me.
So good and true to them is he
I know he will be kind to me.
My lover walks in paths of peace,He would avoid the conflict’s noiseAnd bid the warring legions cease,He is content with simple joys;He fain would always journey throughTall grasses shining in the dewAnd tend his sheep and dream his dreamsBeside the quiet mountain streams;
My lover walks in paths of peace,
He would avoid the conflict’s noise
And bid the warring legions cease,
He is content with simple joys;
He fain would always journey through
Tall grasses shining in the dew
And tend his sheep and dream his dreams
Beside the quiet mountain streams;
So faithful is his love of homeHis heart I know can never roam.
So faithful is his love of home
His heart I know can never roam.
THE SHEPHERD’S SONG.
As fair as the flocks that grazeThere ’gainst the hill’s restful side;As sweet as the breath of nightWhen across dim flowery waysPours a mellifluous tide,Winging an odorous flight:
As fair as the flocks that graze
There ’gainst the hill’s restful side;
As sweet as the breath of night
When across dim flowery ways
Pours a mellifluous tide,
Winging an odorous flight:
Thus is the maiden who sendsSongs to the shepherd who tendsSheep by the streams, and who diesIn the delight of her eyes.
Thus is the maiden who sends
Songs to the shepherd who tends
Sheep by the streams, and who dies
In the delight of her eyes.
Down by the shore in the nightRush the great breakers, nor ceaseOft till the dawn lights the crest;And so is love in its might,Stirring my soul from its peace,Leaving the shepherd no rest.
Down by the shore in the night
Rush the great breakers, nor cease
Oft till the dawn lights the crest;
And so is love in its might,
Stirring my soul from its peace,
Leaving the shepherd no rest.
Oh, if the sheep could but learnFor me the answer I yearn!Come, my fair flock, we shall seeWhat is the answer for me!
Oh, if the sheep could but learn
For me the answer I yearn!
Come, my fair flock, we shall see
What is the answer for me!