THEY graze in beauty on the land
of grassy glades and dewy dales,
and all that’s best of tamed and tanned
meets in their aspect and their tails;
thus mellowed to that tender hand
which Shepherd to gentle glen compels.
One fleece the more, one spot the less,
had half-repaired the shearless grace
which wreathes in every woolen tress
or darkly tightens o’er their face,
where mouths serenely sweet express
how pure, how dear their grazing-place.
And on that rump and o’er that round
so fat, so plump, yet elegant,
the baas that win, the hooves that bound,
but tell of days in meadows spent—
a flock at peace with all around,
a drove whose milk is innocent.