The Shepherd and his Flock

'What! shall I lose them one by one, / This stupid coward throng? / And never shall the wolf have done? / They were at least a thousand strong, / But still they've let poor Robin[1] fall a prey! / Ah, woe's the day! / Poor Robin Wether lying dead! / He follow'd for a bit of bread / His master through the crowded city, / And would have follow'd, had he led, / Around the world. O! what a pity! / My pipe, and even step, he knew; / To meet me when I came, he flew; / In hedge-row shade we napp'd together; / Alas, alas, my Robin Wether! ' / When Willy thus had duly said / His eulogy upon the dead / And unto everlasting fame / Consign'd poor Robin Wether's name, / He then harangued the flock at large, / From proud old chieftain rams / Down to the smallest lambs, / Addressing them this weighty charge, -- / Against the wolf, as one, to stand / In firm, united, fearless band, / By which they might expel him from their land. / Upon their faith, they would not flinch, / They promised him, a single inch. / 'We'll choke,' said they, 'the murderous glutton / Who robbed of us of our Robin Mutton. ' / Their lives they pledged against the beast, / And Willy gave them all a feast. / But evil Fate, than Phoebus faster, / Ere night had brought a new disaster: / A wolf there came. By nature's law, / The total flock were prompt to run; / And yet 'twas not the wolf they saw, / But shadow of him from the setting sun.

[1]: _Robin_. -- Rabelais, in his _Pantagruel_, Book IV., ch. 4, has Robin, Robin Mouton, &c.