I will tell you a rhyme of the shepherdess who loved her sheep,
She lives in the country and could sing her community to sleep
Twinkle went stars nested far up the pregnant black sky,
When black clouds float, the gathering rain storm sigh,
“It will rain, but it might wait a little,” the young shepherdess prayed
She saw the stars disappear from the midst of black clouds
So quickly she led her tired sheep through the barn door
“Up you go, up you go, quickly climb up the dry hay, up you go”
She took the lamb up the higher stairs where a big lamp hung
The little ones nuzzle, when the shepherdess struck up a song
The country was not so far away, everyone could hear her sing,
And how she sang heartily, that the hamlet relaxed with the eerie wind
Suddenly a stronger wind blew and gave the little community a cold push
“Ah, it’s perfectly monstrous weather,” she said when it gave another swoosh
“I must retire before the storm catch me here,” the shepherdess exclaimed
“But tell me what you will like to see in your beautiful dreams,” she asked
And so because they won’t speak or maybe know nothing to say
They only looked on, blinked sheepishly, then maaa-aa away
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