Longfellow (in Praise of Poets)

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In a great land, a new land, a land full of labour / and riches and confusion, / Where there were many running to and fro, and / shouting, and striving together, / In the midst of the hurry and the troubled noise, / I heard the voice of one singing.

"What are you doing there, O man, singing / quietly amid all this tumult? / This is the time for new inventions, mighty / shoutings, and blowings of the trumpet. " / But he answered, "I am only shepherding my / sheep with music."

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