Shepherds all, and maidens fair, <br />Fold your flocks up; for the air <br />'Gins to thicken, and the sun <br />Already his great course hath run. <br />See the dew-drops, how they kiss <br />Every little flower that is; <br />Hanging on their velvet heads, <br />Like a string of crystal beads. <br />See the heavy clouds low falling, <br />And bright Hesperus down calling <br />The dead night from under ground; <br />At whose rising, mists unsound, <br />Damps and vapours, fly apace, <br />And hover o'er the smiling face <br />Of these pastures, where they come, <br />Striking dead both bud and bloom. <br />Therefore from such danger lock <br />Every one his loved flock; <br />And let your dogs lie loose without, <br />Lest the wolf come as a scout <br />From the mountain, and, ere day, <br />Bear a lamb or kid away; <br />Or the crafty, thievish fox, <br />Break upon your simple flocks; <br />To secure yourself from these <br />Be not too secure in ease; <br />So shall you good shepherds prove, <br />And deserve your master's love. <br />Now, good night! may sweetest slumbers <br />And soft silence fall in numbers <br />On your eyelids: so farewell: <br />Thus I end my evening knell.<br /><br />Beaumont and Fletcher<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/folding-the-flocks/
