Short Flights by Meredith Nicholson - HTML preview

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ON THE MEDITERRANEAN.

 

THE GREEK GIRL’S SONG.

TO-DAY my lover lends his flocks;

He roams with them through fragrant meads,

And guides across the barren rocks;

With his own hands the lambs he feeds,

And soothes them when the winds are cold

Or terror comes among the fold.

They soon forget the night’s alarms

When folded in his shielding arms.

So good and true to them is he

I know he will be kind to me.

My lover walks in paths of peace,

He would avoid the conflict’s noise

And bid the warring legions cease,

He is content with simple joys;

He fain would always journey through

Tall grasses shining in the dew

And tend his sheep and dream his dreams

Beside the quiet mountain streams;

 

So faithful is his love of home

His heart I know can never roam.

 

THE SHEPHERD’S SONG.

As fair as the flocks that graze

There ’gainst the hill’s restful side;

As sweet as the breath of night

When across dim flowery ways

Pours a mellifluous tide,

Winging an odorous flight:

Thus is the maiden who sends

Songs to the shepherd who tends

Sheep by the streams, and who dies

In the delight of her eyes.

Down by the shore in the night

Rush the great breakers, nor cease

Oft till the dawn lights the crest;

And so is love in its might,

Stirring my soul from its peace,

Leaving the shepherd no rest.

Oh, if the sheep could but learn

For me the answer I yearn!

Come, my fair flock, we shall see

What is the answer for me!