The Shepherd-Girl

WITHIN the twilight, on the hill,
A shepherd-girl I met;
And she was weeping as she went,
Nor may I well forget
The darksome eyes she lifted up,
That bitter tears had wet.

“ My sheep are all astray, astray;
And since the sun arose,
I have been searching all the land
Beyond the meadow-close ;
And all my sheep are gone from me,
And none are left to lose.

“We wandered, all the summer days,
Where any cowslip led ;
The little brook came with us, too,
But now the leaves are dead;
The winds blow chill from yonder hill,
And it is dark,” she said.

“ Oh, all the summer days I piped
An answer to the lark.
My lambs were growing white as stars,
And fair for all to mark ;
And they have left me, one by one,”
She said, “and it is dark.”

“ Nay, come, thou lonely shepherd-girl,
And find thy sheep with me!
The yellow moon will rise full soon,
And lend her light for thee.
But thou art weary, wandering;
Thine eyes are strange to see.”

“Lad, I have called them long and long;
Oidy an echo hears.
The grass blows gray beneath the wind, —
As gray as far-off years ;
And even if the moonlight shone,
I could not see, for tears.”