Explore "The Sad Shepherd" by W.B. Yeats on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Shepherd. That cry's from the first cuckoo of the year I wished before it ceased.
Goatherd. Nor bird nor beast Could make me wish for anything this day, Being old, but that the old alone might die, And that would be against God's Providence. Let the young wish. But what has brought you here? Never until this moment have we met Where my goats browse on the scarce grass or leap From stone to stone.