I'm A Shepherd, And My Parlours

I'm a shepherd, and my parlours Are the ruffled pasture sides, Slopes of verdant hills and furrows, Balks, with booming cry of snipes. Yellow foamy clouds are trimming Pine-tree wood with lace designs, While I listen, lightly dreaming, To the whisper of the pines. Dewy poplars, softly waving, Shine with verdure on the scene. I am a shepherd, and my dwelling Is the gentle field of green. Cows salute and hail me chatting, Using their tongue of nods. Fragrant flowers are inviting, Kindly, to the river spots. I forget all grieves and cares, On a heap of twigs, I dream. To the sun I say my prayers, 'nd make communion by the stream.