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EBBA 30894

British Library - Roxburghe
Ballad XSLT Template
The Shepherds Glory:
OR,
A pleasant Song oth Shepherd Swain,
Who feed their Flocks upon the plain:
Whose Arms and Honour far out-shines
The Coesars and great Constantines.
To the Tune of, True love rewarded with loyalty: Or, Flora Farewel.

NOw I am in a merry vein,
Ile sing about the Shepherd Swain;
Who night and day the Fields do keep,
To wait upon the flocks of Sheep.

In Royal Tombs some of them lye,
And are of great Antiquity:
Their Ancientry quite out doth run,
To Father Adams second Son.

Who though he was bys Brother slain,
Yet first he was a Shepherd Swain;
Who did a Lamb toth Alter bring,
And made it his burnt-Offering.

The Lamb was innocent from harms,
And thence became the Shepherds Arms:
The ignorant do little know,
The Royal Escutcheons they can show.

The Second part, the same Tune.

THe next man that ith field appears,
Was Abraham with his Ram ith briers,
But if he lead them in the Hain,
A Whistle brings them back again.

And Jacob gaind the Cherubim,
When th Angel was orecome by him:
Where like a Prince he did prevail,
And changd his name to Israel.

The Knitter and the Taylor too,
Without the Fleece can little do:
Were it not for the Shepherd Swain,
The Wheel and Loom were made in vain.

And Moses brought the Bush on fire,
And joynd to Abrahams Ram ith Brier:
And Judah Father of the Kings,
The mighty Couching Lyon brings.

A Bear and Lyon both were slain,
When David was a Shepherd swain:
Three Shepherds came from East so far,
Their onely guide the Shepherds star.

These were the tydings they did bring,
To Israel is born a King:
And David usd the staff and sling,
Before that he was Judahs King.

But when he had Goliath slain,
He left those Army toth shepherd swain:
Which in those days were of Renown,
When Moses spurnd at Pharoahs Crown.

And left the Court and took the Fields,
Which braver sport and pleasure yields:
Which are bestrewd with pleasant flowers,
And are bedewd with Chrystial showers.

Which makes their Beauty to excell,
And send forth a most fragrant smell:
Where Nightingales ith Bushes sing,
For to salute the early spring.

Where towering Larks do soar on high,
In consort, making Melody:
Where Chanting Birds ith woods do sing
Which makes the hallow Vallies ring.

Where flocks of sheep slaight on the dounds,
And shepherds guide and keep their bounds:
And lead them into Valleys green,
Where chrystial streams, the hills between.

Do trickle down and freely spring,
Which makes the shepherd swains to sing:
A Horned sheep a Bell doth Ring,
And guides the rest much like a King.

And from the hot and scorching Sun,
The Groves do shade the flock at Noon:
The Shepherd with his Pipe and Reed,
Makes Melody, while they do feed.

A Box of Tar a Dog doth bear,
Which is for Sheep an Oyntment rare:
The use whereof all Shepherds know,
Therefore in vain the Fly doth blow.

Though Frost and snow do pinch with cold,
The Shepherd will not leave his Fold:
And carefully his flock doth feed,
But doth supply what else they need.

And while the Ews do eat their Hay,
The Lambs do frisk about and play:
The Shepherds pleasd for to behold,
The Lambs a dancing round the Fold.

None with the Shepherd may compare,
For useful and substantial Ware:
Tis with the Fleece that Women Spin,
And so the Weaving trade comes in.

Now Shepherds I leave you all,
To him that doth and ever shall;
Who can alone in safety keep,
The pleasant Shepherds and their Sheep.


Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Golden-Ball, near the Hospital-gate, in West-smithfield.

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