De massa ob de sheepfol’, Dat guards de sheepfol’ bin, Look out in de gloomerin’ meadows, Wha’r de long night rain begin— So he call to de hirelin’ shepa’d, “Is my sheep, is dey all come in?” Oh den, says de hirelin’ shepa’d: “Dey ’s some, dey ’s black and thin, And some, dey ’s po’ ol’ wedda’s; But de res’, dey ’s all brung in. But de res’, dey ’s all brung in.” Den de massa ob de sheepfol’, Dat guards de sheepfol’ bin, Goes down in de gloomerin’ meadows, Wha’r de long night rain begin— So he le’ down de ba’s ob de sheepfol’, Callin’ sof’, “Come in. Come in.” Callin’ sof’, “Come in. Come in.” Den up t’ro’ de gloomerin’ meadows, T’ro’ de col’ night rain and win’, And up t’ro’ de gloomerin’ rain-paf’, Wha’r de sleet fa’ pie’cin’ thin, De po’ los’ sheep ob de sheepfol’, Dey all comes gadderin’ in. De po’ los’ sheep ob de sheepfol’, Dey all comes gadderin’ in.
De Sheepfol'
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De massa ob de sheepfol’, Dat guards de sheepfol’ bin, Look out in de gloomerin’ meadows, Wha’r de long night rain begin— So he call to de hirelin’ shepa’d, “Is my sheep, is dey all come in?” Oh den, says de hirelin’ shepa’d: “Dey ’s some, dey ’s black and thin, And some, dey ’s po’ ol’ wedda’s...
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