Monday, November 3, 2014



One day I could not read or play,
   I was too tired to sleep;
I watched the sky from where I lay,
   And saw the clouds like sheep.

I saw the clouds like sheep pass by
   Across the fields of Heaven,
So many that they filled the sky,
   From morning-tide till even.

The wind their shepherd was, and he
   Drove with such loving skill,
They could not tell they were not free
   To wander at their will.

And so from morn to eve they passed,
   New-washed and fleecy white;
And came into their folds at last
   Behind the hills of night.

And when the flock was passed and gone,
   Then, slowly as could be,
There came one little lamb alone,
   For he was tired, like me.

~Norman Ault

Stevenson, Burton Egbert. 
New York: Henry Holt and Company, 1956. Print.

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