The Shepherds
Sweet,
harmless
lives!
(on
whose
holy
leisure
Waits
innocence
and
pleasure),
Whose
leaders
to
those
pastures,
and
clear
springs,
Were
patriarchs,
saints,
and
kings,
How
happened
it
that
in
the
dead
of
night
You
only
saw
true
light,
While
Palestine
was
fast
asleep,
and
lay
Without
one
thought
of
day?
Was
it
because
those
first
and
blessed
swains
Were
pilgrims
on
those
plains
When
they
received
the
promise,
for
which
now
'Twas
there
first
shown
to
you?
'Tis
true,
He
loves
that
dust
whereon
they
go
That
serve
Him
here
below,
And
therefore
might
for
memory
of
those
His
love
there
first
disclose;
But
wretched
Salem,
once
His
love,
must
now
No
voice,
nor
vision
know,
Her
stately
piles
with
all
their
height
and
pride
Now
languished
and
died,
And
Bethlem's
humble
cotes
above
them
stepped
While
all
her
seers
slept;
Her
cedar,
fir,
hewed
stones
and
gold
were
all
Polluted
through
their
fall,
And
those
once
sacred
mansions
were
now
Mere
emptiness
and
show;
This
made
the
angel
call
at
reeds
and
thatch,
Yet
where
the
shepherds
watch,
And
God's
own
lodging
(though
He
could
not
lack)
To
be
a
common
rack;
No
costly
pride,
no
soft-clothed
luxury
In
those
thin
cells
could
lie,
Each
stirring
wind
and
storm
blew
through
their
cots
Which
never
harbored
plots,
Only
content,
and
love,
and
humble
joys
Lived
there
without
all
noise,
Perhaps
some
harmless
cares
for
the
next
day
Did
in
their
bosoms
play,
As
where
to
lead
their
sheep,
what
silent
nook,
What
springs
or
shades
to
look,
But
that
was
all;
and
now
with
gladsome
care
They
for
the
town
prepare,
They
leave
their
flock,
and
in
a
busy
talk
All
towards
Bethlem
walk
To
see
their
souls'
Great
Shepherd,
Who
was
come
To
bring
all
stragglers
home,
Where
now
they
find
Him
out,
and
taught
before
That
Lamb
of
God
adore,
That
Lamb
whose
days
great
kings
and
prophets
wished
And
longed
to
see,
but
missed.
The
first
light
they
beheld
was
bright
and
gay
And
turned
their
night
to
day,
But
to
this
later
light
they
saw
in
Him,
Their
day
was
dark,
and
dim.
