Folding the Flocks

Shepherds all, and maidens fair, Fold your flocks up; for the air ’Gins to thicken, and the sun Already his great course hath run. See the dew-drops, how they kiss Every little flower that is; Hanging on their velvet heads, Like a string of crystal beads. See the heavy clouds low falling And bright Hesperus down calling The dead night from underground; At whose rising, mists unsound, Damps and vapors, fly apace, And hover o’er the smiling face Of these pastures; where they come, Striking dead both bud and bloom. Therefore from such danger lock Every one his lovèd flock; And let your dogs lie loose without, Lest the wolf come as a scout From the mountain, and ere day, Bear a lamb or kid away; Or the crafty, thievish fox, Break upon your simple flocks. To secure yourself from these, Be not too secure in ease; So shall you good shepherds prove, And deserve your master’s love. Now, good night! may sweetest slumbers And soft silence fall in numbers On your eyelids. So farewell: Thus I end my evening knell.