Come Down, Sheep!

ONCE I was a shepherdess
Clambering the mountain-side,
Calling to my feeding sheep,
‘Come down,’ at eventide;
Breaking stalks of asphodel,
Loosening the stones that fell
Tinkling down the mountain-side,
Calling, calling, ‘Down, come down,
Come down,’ at eventide.

Like a waterfall above me,
Like a cloud of bees,
Murmuring and humming, coming,
Swaying down the mountain-side
Garlanded with falling foam,
‘Come down, my flock;
At eventide I guide
You home.’

Mist is rising from the hollow
Like the mist of sleep,
Silvery as lambs that follow
My reluctant sheep,
Trotting hoof and nodding head
On the roadway streaming down;
I have wound my spindle-thread,
Tucked my distaff in my gown —
I shall spin no more to-day.