He saw me, and he turned aside,
As if he wished himself to hide:
Then with his coat he made essay
To wipe those briny tears away.

I followed him, and said, "My Friend, What ails you? wherefore weep you so?" "Shame on me, Sir! this lusty Lamb,

He makes my tears to flow.

To-day I fetched him from the rock;
He is the last of all my flock.

When I was young, a single Man,
And after youthful follies ran,
Though little given to care and thought,
Yet, so it was, a Ewe I bought;
And other sheep from her I raised,
As healthy sheep as you might see;
And then I married, and was rich
As I could wish to be;

Of sheep I numbered a full score,

And

every year increased my store.

VOL. I.

K

Year after year my stock it grew;
And from this one, this single Ewe,
Full fifty comely sheep I raised,
As sweet a flock as ever grazed!
Upon the mountain did they feed,
They throve, and we at home did thrive.
-This lusty Lamb, of all my store,

Is all that is alive;

And now I care not if we die,

And perish all of poverty.

Six Children, Sir! had I to feed;
Hard labour in a time of need!

My pride was tamed, and in our grief
I of the Parish asked relief.

They said I was a wealthy man ;
My sheep upon the mountain fed,

And it was fit that thence I took
Whereof to buy us bread.

"Do this: how can we give to you,"

They cried, "what to the poor is due ?"

I sold a sheep, as they had said,

And bought my little children bread, And they were healthy with their food; it never did me good.

For me

A woeful time it was for me,

To see the end of all my gains,

The pretty flock which I had reared
With all my care and pains,

To see it melt like snow away!
For me it was a woeful day.

Another still! and still another!

A little lamb, and then its mother!

It was a vein that never stopp'd—

Like blood-drops from my heart they dropp'd.

Till thirty were not left alive

They dwindled, dwindled, one by one,

And I may say, that many a time

I wished they all were gone:
They dwindled one by one away;
For me it was a woeful day.

To wicked deeds I was inclined,
And wicked fancies crossed my mind;
And every man I chanced to see,
I thought he knew some ill of me.
No peace, no comfort could I find,
No ease, within doors or without;
And crazily, and wearily,

I went my work about.
Oft-times I thought to run away;
For me it was a woeful day.

Sir! 'twas a precious flock to me,
As dear as my own Children be;
For daily with my growing store
I loved my Children more and more.
Alas! it was an evil time;

God cursed me in my sore distress;
I prayed, yet every day I thought
I loved my Children less;
And every week, and every day,
My flock, it seemed to melt away.

They dwindled, Sir, sad sight to see!
From ten to five, from five to three,
A lamb, a weather, and a ewe;—
And then at last, from three to two;
And, of my fifty, yesterday

I had but only one:

And here it lies upon my arm,

Alas! and I have none;

To-day I fetched it from the rock;
It is the last of all my flock."