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William Henry Drummond - On Shepherds` PipesWilliam Henry Drummond - On Shepherds` Pipes
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O than the fairest day, thrice fairer night! Night to blest days in which a sun doth rise Of which that golden age which clears the skies Is but a sparkling ray, a shadow-light! And blessed ye, in silly pastors` sight, Mild creatures, in whose warm crib now lies That heaven-sent youngling, holy-maid-born wight: Midst, end, beginning of our prophecies! Blest cottage that hath flowers in winter spread, Though withered--blessed grass that hath the grace To deck and be a carpet to that place! Thus sang, unto the sounds, of oaten reed, Before the Babe, the shepherds bowed on knees; And springs ran nectar, honey dropped from trees.
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