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Sheep Poems

Table of Contents

  1. Sheep That Keeps Me Warm To-day by Annette Wynne
  2. The Shepherd by William Blake
  3. The Lamb-Child by John B. Tabb
  4. The Lamb by William Blake
  5. The Good Shepherd by D. N. Howe
  6. The Desert Flock by Grace C. Howes
  7. Little Bo-Peep by Anonymous
  8. Mary Had a Little Lamb by Anonymous
  9. Baa, Baa, Black Sheep by Anonymous
  10. Sheep and Lambs by Katharine Tynan Hinkson
  11. The Old Sheep Wagon by Arthur Chapman

  1. Sheep That Keeps Me Warm To-day

    by Annette Wynne

    Sheep that keeps me warm to-day,
    Are you living far away?
    Are you shut up in a stall,
    Shivering and cold and all?

    Sheep, when I go out to play,
    I never mind the cold to-day,
    I have mittens of your wool,
    Strong and soft and beautiful.

    Sheep, sheep, far away—
    I hope you are not cold to-day.

  2. The Shepherd

    by William Blake

    How sweet is the Shepherd's sweet lot!
    From the morn to the evening he strays;
    He shall follow his sheep all the day,
    And his tongue shall be filled with praise.
    For he hears the lamb's innocent call,
    And he hears the ewe's tender reply;
    He is watchful, while they are in peace,
    For they know when their Shepherd is nigh.

  3. The Lamb-Child

    by John B. Tabb

    When Christ the Babe was born,
    Full many a little lamb,
    Upon the wintry hills forlorn,
    Was nestled near its dam;

    And, waking or asleep,
    Upon His mother's breast,
    For love of her, each mother-sheep
    And baby-lamb He blessed.

  4. The Lamb

    by William Blake

    Little Lamb, who made thee?
    Dost thou know who made thee,
    Gave thee life, and bade thee feed
    By the stream and o'er the mead;
    Gave thee clothing of delight
    Softest clothing, woolly, bright;
    Gave thee such a tender voice,
    Making all the vales rejoice?
    Little Lamb, who made thee?
    Dost thou know who made thee?

    Little Lamb, I'll tell thee;
    Little Lamb, I'll tell thee;
    He is called by thy name,
    For He calls Himself a Lamb.
    He is meek, and He is mild;
    He became a little child.
    I a child, and thou a lamb,
    We are called by His name.
    Little Lamb, God bless thee!
    Little Lamb, God bless thee.

  5. The Good Shepherd

    by D. N. Howe

    There were ninety and nine
    Of a flock, sleek and fine
    In a sheltering cote in the vale;
    But a lamb was away,
    On the mountain astray,
    Unprotected within the safe pale.

    Then the sleet and the rain
    On the mountain and plain,
    And the wind fiercely blowing a gale,
    And the night's growing dark,
    And the wolf's hungry bark
    Stir the soul of the shepherd so hale.

    And he says, "Hireling, go;
    For a lamb's in the snow
    And exposed to the wild hungry beast;
    'Tis no time to keep seat,
    Nor to rest weary feet,
    Nor to sit at a bounteous feast."

    Then the hireling replied,
    "Here you have at your side
    All your flock save this one little sheep.
    Are the ninety and nine,
    All so safe and so fine,
    Not enough for the shepherd to keep?"

    Then the shepherd replied,
    "Ah! this lamb from my side
    Presses near, very near, to my heart.
    Not its value in pay
    Makes me urge in this way,
    But the longings and achings of heart."

    "Let me wait till the day,
    O good shepherd, I pray;
    For I shudder to go in the dark
    On the mountain so high
    And its precipice nigh
    'Mong the wolves with their frightening bark."

    Then the shepherd said, "No;
    Surely some one must go
    Who can rescue my lamb from the cold,
    From the wolf's hungry maw
    And the lion's fierce paw
    And restore it again to the fold."

    Then the shepherd goes out
    With his cloak girt about
    And his rod and his staff in his hand.
    What cares he for the cold
    If his sheep to the fold
    He can bring from the dark mountain land?

    You can hear his clear voice
    As the mountains rejoice,
    "Sheepy sheep, sheepy sheep, sheepy sheep!"
    Up the hillside so steep,
    Into caverns so deep,
    "Sheepy sheep, sheepy sheep, sheepy sheep!"

    Now he hears its weak "baa,"
    And he answers it, "Ah!
    Sheepy sheep, sheepy sheep, sheepy sheep!"
    Then its answering bleat
    Hurries on his glad feet,
    And his arms gather up his lost sheep.

    Wet and cold on his breast
    The lost lamb found its rest
    As he bore it adown to the fold.
    And the ninety and nine
    Bleat for joy down the line,
    That it's safe from the wolf and the cold.

    Then he said to his friends,
    "Now let joy make amends
    For the steeps and the deeps I have crossed—
    For the pelting of sleet
    And my sore, weary feet,
    For I've found the dear lamb that was lost."

    Let the hirelings upbraid
    For the nights that He stayed
    On the mountains so rugged and high.
    Surely never a jeer
    From my lips shall one hear,
    For—that poor lonely lambkin—was—I.

    While the eons shall roll
    O'er my glad ransomed soul
    I will praise the Good Shepherd above,
    For a place on His breast,
    For its comfort and rest,
    For His wonderful, wonderful love.

  6. The Desert Flock

    by Grace C. Howes

    Down from the mesa's wind-blown height,
    While sunset fires the western steep,
    Toward the low shelters of the night
    The herder guides his sheep.
    They huddle by, sun-drowsed and mute,
    As following some magic flute
    Four thousand banded sheep, and more,
    Across the dusty desert floor.

    How many ages, long since hid,
    Mankind has shepherded his flocks!
    On far Judean plains or mid
    The Attic hillside rocks
    And here today they seem to wear
    An undefined, sweet ancient air,
    Shuffling through the sunset glow
    As through a world of long ago.

  7. Little Bo-Peep

    by Anonymous

    Little Bo-peep has lost her sheep,
    And can't tell where to find them;
    Leave them alone, and they'll come home,
    And bring their tails behind them.

    Little Bo-peep fell fast asleep,
    And dreamed she heard them bleating;
    But when she awoke, she found it a joke,
    For they were still a-fleeting.

    Then up she took her little crook,
    Determined for to find them;
    She found them indeed, but it made her heart bleed,
    For they'd left their tails behind them!

    It happened one day, as Bo-peep did stray,
    Unto a meadow hard by,
    There she espied their tails side by side,
    All hung on a tree to dry.

    She heaved a sigh, and wiped her eye,
    And over the hillocks she raced;
    And tried what she could, as a shepherdess should,
    That each tail should be properly placed.

  8. Mary Had a Little Lamb

    by Anonymous

    Mary had a little lamb,
    His fleece was white as snow,
    And everywhere that Mary went,
    The lamb was sure to go.

    He followed her to school one day,
    Which was against the rule,
    It made the children laugh and play
    To see a lamb at school.

    And so the teacher turned it out,
    But still it lingered near,
    And waited patiently about,
    Till Mary did appear.

    And then it ran to her, and laid
    It's head upon her arm,
    As if it said—"I'm not afraid—
    You'll keep me from all harm."

    "Why does the lamb love Mary so?"
    The eager children cry.
    "Why, Mary loves the lamb, you know."
    The teacher did reply.

    "And you each gentle animal
    In confidence may bind,
    And make them follow at your call,
    If you are always kind."

  9. Baa, Baa, Black Sheep

    by Anonymous

    Baa, baa, black sheep,
    Have you any wool?
    Yes, sir, yes, sir,
    Three bags full;
    One for the master,
    And one for the dame,
    And one for the little boy
    Who lives down the lane.

  10. Sheep and Lambs

    by Katharine Tynan Hinkson

    All in the April morning,
    April airs were abroad;
    The sheep with their little lambs
    Pass'd me by on the road.

    The sheep with their little lambs
    Pass'd me by on the road;
    All in an April evening
    I thought on the Lamb of God.

    The lambs were weary, and crying
    With a weak human cry;
    I thought on the Lamb of God
    Going meekly to die.

    Up in the blue, blue mountains
    Dewy pastures are sweet:
    Rest for the little bodies,
    Rest for the little feet.

    Rest for the Lamb of God
    Up on the hill-top green;
    Only a cross of shame
    Two stark crosses between.

    All in the April evening,
    April airs were abroad;
    I saw the sheep with their lambs,
    And thought on the Lamb of God.

  11. The Old Sheep Wagon

    Arthur Chapman

    I have heard men long for a palace, but I want no such abode,
    For wealth is a source of trouble, and a jeweled crown is a load;
    I'll take my home in the open, with a mixture of sun and rain—
    Just give me my old sheep wagon, on the boundless Wyoming plain.

    With the calling sheep around me, and my collie's head on my knees,
    I float my cigarette smoke on the sage-scented prairie breeze;
    And at night, when the band is bedded, I creep, like a tired child,
    To my tarp, in the friendly wagon, alone on the sheep range wild.

    Music and art I am missing?—but what great symphony
    Can equal the harps of nature that are twanged by the plains-wind free?
    And where is the master of color to match, though for years he tried,
    The purples that veil yon mesa, at the hour of eventide?

    I have had my fill of mankind, and my dog is my only friend,
    So I'm waiting, here in the sagebrush, for the judgment the Lord may send;
    They'll find me dead in my wagon, out here on the hilltops brown,
    But I reckon I'll die as easy as I would in a bed in town!

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