II

4 0 00

II

Beneath a rock, upon the grass,

Two Boys are sitting in the sun;

It seems they have no work to do,

Or that their work is done.

On pipes of sycamore they play

The fragments of a Christmas Hymn;

Or with that plant which in our dale

We call Stag-horn, or Fox’s Tail,

Their rusty Hats they trim:

And thus, as happy as the Day,

Those Shepherds wear the time away.